welcome to the new age (this is it, the apocalypse)
by jacklavigne
Summary: What if Polaris wasn't the only part of the Ark to fall to the ground, ninety five years ago? What if all thirteen stations fell? Or, Instead of growing up among the stars, the people of the Ark grow up on the ground.
1. Chapter 1

The blistering cold wind brushes against the bare skins of your arms, so cold that it's almost painful, and yet also something of a relief as it dries the sweat beading on your skin. The first rays of dawn are beginning to peek over the horizon from the newly rising sun, causing the snow and ice beneath your feet to glitter and sparkle almost blindingly. You glance down from the edge of the cliff where you stand, wiping the sweat from your face with a rag as you take in the sight below you with your awe filled gaze. Snow capped mountains and tall pine trees spread out for as far as the eye can see, split down the middle by a fast rushing river, glinting in the sunlight. The sight never fails to steal the breath from your lungs, even more so when you remember that one day, it will all be yours.

My home, you think reverently as your eyes flick over the towering trees that sway in the breeze, heavily dusted with pure white snow. You study the picture perfect scene, your fingers twitching with the desire to put charcoal to parchment, to recreate the picture that you've sketched a thousand times before and are yet to tire of. This is your home, this is your sanctuary, and it's fucking beautiful.

The moment is interrupted by the sound of careful, but too heavy feet crunching snow beneath each cautious step. You listen to the almost inaudible rustle of fabric, breathe in the smell of sweat and dirt and earth and let a tiny smile tilt your lips. You wait patiently, your body remaining motionless and relaxed, even as your thumb rubs against the hilt of your sword in silent anticipation.

You hear the subtle intake of breath, your cue, and you spin around gracefully, muscles shifting and tensing as your bring up your sword to block the blow aimed at your head. The shrill shriek of a sword sliding down the length of your blade pierces your ears, as a heavy pressure pushes you down into an almost crouch. You let your thighs take the added weight, bending your knees before you vault upwards, pushing your opponent a step backwards before taking advantage of his momentary lack of balance to slam the hilt of your sword into his chest.

He hits the ground with a thud and a choked gasp and you shake your head with a small smirk.

"What does Echo think when you return home every morning, bloody and bruised?" You ask the man panting on the snow covered ground with a grin. He groans loudly at your words and a laugh escapes from your lips in a huff at the sound. "Does she know that you're up here at dawn every day, getting your ass handed to you by a girl that's half your size?"

"She knows," the man wheezes in response, rubbing his hand against his broad chest in an attempt to sooth the pain. "She is surprised that I don't come back on a litter most days, after sparring with the infamous azgeda prisa, slayer of mountain leopards."

You roll your eyes with an amused snort. "That was one time, Belomi."

"And one big mountain leopard, from what I hear," Belomi says, his voice still slightly accented to your ears, as he finally pushes himself into a sitting position with a wince. He runs his fingers through his shaggy dark hair, brushing it away from his attractive face with a smirk. "I almost got you this time though."

"You weren't even close," you retort with a grin, reaching out your hand to pull the man off the ground with a soft grunt. "But I will not lie; you have improved. Though, those trikru feet of yours need to remember that they are no longer skulking along the forest floor. It's been two years, Bell, you need to learn how to tread more lightly or you'll never win a fight against any of the azgedakru, even the children."

"My trikru feet are just fine," Belomi says easily, without the scorn or disdain that would have laced those words mere years ago, before the coalition. "I'll think about extra stealth training in the snow when you can climb a tree faster than me, Klark."

"Climbing a tree won't save you from a snow leopard," You respond lightly, sliding your sword into the sheath on your back as Belomi picks up his pack and throws it over his shoulder, gesturing towards the path with a tilt of his head.

You lead the way down the side of the mountain, placing your feet carefully upon the ground and avoiding the almost invisible patches of ice that will send you careening off the edge. Belomi's steps are much lighter behind you and you grin as you imagine his expression of concentration as he places his feet carefully in the snow.

Silence persists between the two of you comfortably as you climb down the mountain, though it's broken once your feet are back on solid ground, by Belomi's forced nonchalant voice. "Have you spoken further with your mother about the trip?"

You clench your teeth together at the calmly spoken question and it's an effort to unlock your jaw enough to reply. "There is no such thing as 'further discussion' with the Queen, Belomi."

"So, you're coming then?" Belomi asks softly, though the hope in his voice is barely concealed. "To the capitol?"

"I have no choice," you reply with forced casualty. "It has been two years since the coalition bonded our people together and my mother has not returned to Polis since. She can stand the Commander no more than I, and she will not bend a knee to her again in this lifetime, if she has her way, so the honor falls to me."

Silence falls briefly after your less than subtle sarcasm, before Belomi clears his throat awkwardly. "The Commander will be pissed."

"The Commander," you spit the title with more venom than even you expect. "Should be grateful that she has my pleasant face to deal with, rather than that of my mother. At least I can still be somewhat reasonable in her presence, the Queen is more likely to spit in her face than listen to anything that she has to say."

Belomi hums in an agreement, before gently shoving your shoulder with his arm. "And what a pretty face it is, prisa."

His words surprise a laugh from your lips and you meet his dark eyes with a sly grin. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Belomi."

Your shared laughter echoes off the mountains that surround your path as you wander unhurriedly back towards your city.

The city of the azgedakru sits at the base of the tallest mountain in your territory, bracketed on three sides by giant handmade walls of stone, to protect it from avalanche and enemies, held together by the blood of the azgedakru that built it. The front gate is made of wood and rock, standing at almost fifty feet tall, and the heavy wooden doors are intricately carved with scenes of battles long since fought and won by your people, a reminder to all those who enter the city.

The sight of it has brought tears to your eyes more than once, after many long trips away from the home.

"Home, sweet home," Belomi says fondly, causing a smile to pull at the corner of your lips. The man at your side had not stepped foot inside your territory for anything other than war, up until two years ago. He had been visiting the city with a handful of warriors from the capitol, to seek out a nightblood child that had been born the previous spring, when he had met Echo. He'd left the capitol a few days later, only to return after a moon and he hadn't left since, except for the short trips he took to visit his sister in Tondisi, every few moons.

You had hated each other when you first met, but time and hardships had brought you together and now he was one of your closest friends.

"Go and say your last goodbyes to your woman," you smile at him, laying a sympathetic hand on his muscular shoulder as you walk through the doors of the city. "It'll be a while before we can return, so make it count. We'll meet back here with the others in an hour."

Belomi gives you a casual salute before swagging away, his lithe form disappearing in mere moments in the city's early morning hustle and bustle. You sigh as you turn to walk down the main street, your blue eyes flickering over the comfortable wooden huts and the market stalls that border along the dirt path that leads towards your home. You eyes soak up every inch of the city, from the small bonfires that burn brightly at regular intervals along the street, to the people who walk alongside you, your people. You will miss your home as you always do when you are forced to leave it, though you know that this time will be worse, if only because where you are heading.

You pause briefly to watch the sekens training in the city square, their blunted blades clashing together with growing skill. Your blue eyes are filled momentarily with bitterness and envy as your gaze flickers over the harsh but proud faces of the masters as they train the young warriors. Your mother had refused every warrior that had offered to take you under their wing when you were young, forcing you to train with her from the age of three. She hadn't allowed you to take a seken either, once you had reached your eighteenth year. She'd taken those honorable opportunities away from you; keeping you for herself to be certain that you would turn out exactly the way she wanted.

She'd gotten half of her wish; you were one of the best warriors that had ever been born in your clan and one day, you would make a great leader, but your bitterness had lasted long into your adult years, dimming your respect for her and her rule. You loved her still, but your knees didn't bend as effortlessly as they should at her command.

You turn away from the sekens and their masters with a sigh and continue your journey.

With every step, you draw closer to the stone building, which had once been a place of worship in the old world, that you called home. The slate gray stone building stood proudly in the center of the city, with thick wooden doors that kept the frigid winds of your territory out. Coloured glass, with cracks and missing shards made up the windows, and you smile at the rainbow coloured rays they reflected from the early morning sunlight. The two warriors that stand guard outside the doors hurriedly push them open for you upon your arrival and you give a small nod of thanks as you stride into the brightly lit building.

"Klark." A familiar voice calls to you immediately as you step inside and you instinctively clench your jaw as you tilt your head to regard the speaker. She stands proudly beside one of the stained windows, the colours splashing across her pale face and sparkling in her brown eyes as she regards you in turn. A thick grey cloak, made from the fur of the wolves that stalk your territory, rested upon her shoulders and encased her thin form, and a dagger rested at her hip, the hilt held casually by her hand.

"My Kwin." You return formally, tilting your head in respect and earning a small frown from the other woman. The displeasure on her face gives you more satisfaction than it probably should.

"Klark," your mother sighs softly, stepping towards you with only a hint of hesitation. It's an effort not to step backwards on instinct. "Please. Don't leave like this."

"I wouldn't be leaving at all if you hadn't commanded it," you say, failing to keep the bitterness from your voice. You hold up your hand to stop the reply about to burst from the older woman's lips and you're thankful when she complies. "I understand, mother, I do, but I don't have time to talk about this. I need to leave now if I have any hope of reaching the capitol before the summit."

You can see that your mother wants to argue, but she merely purses her lips in an effort to stop the words from spilling out. She nods her head once, sharply, before gesturing towards your things that are packed and waiting by the stairs that lead up to the living quarters. You nod your head in thanks and swing your heavy pack over your shoulder, listening to the clink of weapons that you have hidden inside in abundance.

"I want you to send me a message as soon as you find out why we were summoned," Your mother and queen says as you pick up your leopard skin cloak and lay it over your free shoulder. "It must be something important if the Commander even thought to send for us to journey to Polis, two months before the spring festival, no less."

"Of course, my Kwin," you answer obediently, feeling the same curiosity that you can see glinting in your mother's eyes. The Commander never calls upon azgeda if she can help it, so you know that the reason behind the summit must be of the utmost importance. You almost smirk to think of how she will react to your presence, rather than that of your mother's.

Not well, you think, almost gleefully. Not well, at all.

"Do not let her intimidate you, Klark," Your mother says firmly, her brown eyes hard. Your fingers clench tighter around the straps of your bag at the not so subtle warning and you tilt your head in reply. "She may be young, but she is smart and cunning and she will try to manipulate you into getting what she wants, if she thinks that she can. She is not to be trusted, under any circumstances. You know what she wants for us and our people."

"I know." You say, and you do know. You will never forget the last time you saw the commander, the last time your eyes met those hard green orbs that seemed to stare right through you. It had been your first and last meeting with the commander of the twelve clans and the memory still caused your chest to ache and ache and ache.

Your mother sighs softly when you answer, her face softening momentarily as she gazes at you. "Be careful, Klark."

Her words are enough to soften your eyes, if only slightly and you nod your head once as your mother reaches out to cup your cheek, her calloused palm brushing roughly against your skin.

"May we meet again," she says, the words of your people, and it softens you further. Come back to me.

"May we meet again," you return, and then you are gone.

A party of thirty strong waits for you near the entrance to the city and you can't help the smirk that pulls at the corner of your lips.

"What is this?" You call loudly as you wander up to the group that is crowded around the gates, causing heads to spin so fast you fear they may snap. "I asked for a group of five. Can you not count, Belomi?"

"Not my idea," Belomi says, holding his hands up as he professes his innocence, before turning to point his fingers at the woman standing by his side, saddling her horse. "This is all on her."

"Of course, it is," you chuckle, winking at Monti as he hands you the reins to your horse with a sheepish grin. "Of course."

"Well, can you blame me, prisa?" The woman in question asks indignantly as she turns to meet your stare, and it's an effort not to let your lips spread in a full blown grin when you notice her sly expression. Her dark eyes are glinting with mischief and her lips are parted in a grin, revealing straight white teeth. "I mean, can you imagine the Commander's face when she see's all of us?"

"Yes," you sigh with mock frustration as you attach your bag to your horse's saddle before turning to face your friend since birth. "She will likely take us for a war party and have us executed on sight, Raven."

"She wishes," Raven grins as she reaches forward to grasp your forearm warmly, before her expression becomes somewhat serious. "You haven't been to the Polis since your fourteenth year, Klark. I want you to make a lasting impression on those capitol shits."

You smile slightly as you squeeze your friend's arm before releasing it, taking a deep breath and letting your lips spread in a grin as you take in the faces of the people surrounding you, your friends.

"I think you will get your wish," you say with a soft breath of laughter, smiling as Raven nudges your shoulder with hers. "But I swear, the first person that complains about the two week journey to the capitol, will not live to regret it."

You listen to the almost synchronized chorus of, 'yes, prisa,' with a grin before you mount your horse with ease, sliding comfortably into the saddle and taking the reins in your hands.

"Okay," you say as your comrades mount their beasts around you, before you trot to the head of your little army. "Let's move out, people."

You don't allow yourself to look back as you lead your party out the gates, but a ball of dread slowly begins to build in your stomach as you leave the city further and further behind.


	2. Chapter 2

Words spoken by Clarke and others, written all in italics are being spoken in azgedesleng, but have been translated into english.

Words spoken by Clarke and others, written in italics and without translation are being spoken in trigedsleng and with be translated at the end of each chapter.

Words spoken by Clarke and others, not written in italics are the characters using gonasleng, known to us as the english language or common tongue.

" _Who's fucking idea was this, again?_ "

" _Not mine_ ," you murmur under your breath as you wrap your leopard skin cloak tighter around your body. You rub your thumb absentmindedly over fur of the purest white, if not for the black circles that were spread across it in no particular pattern. It was your favourite item of clothing, made for you by a talented woman named Tala, a few days after you killed the beast that the fur belonged to. The snow leopard had been mutated by the radiation from the bombs that ended the world, more than three times as big as any you'd ever seen, with two heads, both equipt with fangs as long as your forearm. The beast had torn through the city gates in the winter of your sixteenth year, seeking warmth and food, and you had wrestled with it in the city square. After a brutal fight that had earned you many scars, the most prominent being the claw marks that raked from your right shoulder to your left hip, you had slit the beast's throat with your father's old dagger.

You had become something of a legend after that. The legend only grew as you aged and waged war against the other clans on your mother's orders, leaving your shoulderblades lined with enough kill marks to make you feel physically ill on your worst days, while others gazed upon them with awe and admiration.

You shift your shoulders beneath your cloak, your muscles tensing and pulling against old scar tissue, and find yourself glad that you can't see the ruined expanse of skin easily.

" _The fucking Commander,_ " Raven grumbles from her place beside you, pressing her shoulder against yours in an attempt to steal your warmth. " _The reason for this summit better be fucking good. I hate sleeping on the ground, especially in the middle of winter._ "

" _Hopefully it's not about a new trade agreement,_ " Jaspa says from the opposite side of the fire, where he sits between Monti and Fox. " _We've barely survived after the negotiations last time._ "

The group of thirty hums in agreement, thinking about the brutal trade agreement that was forced upon your _kru_ when the coalition was built. Your people had been left practically destitute due to it, barely surviving the winters when almost half of your harvest and supplies were sent to the capitol every year. Much more than what was asked of the other clans who were already initially much better off in their milder territories. Ice Nation lands were hard, the earth barely supplying enough to keep your people from from starvation, but it was part of the reason why your people were so strong.

You always survived.

" _We will be paying for Nia's mistakes for the next century,_ " Romah commented bitterly. " _Eight years since her fight was ended, along with her blood line, and her ghost still haunts our people._ "

You had only been thirteen when Nia was killed by your own mother, who was then crowned queen by your people. She had then taken you with her to the capitol, to meet _Heda Sorsha,_ to discuss peace between _azgedakru_ and the other clans. The peace had only lasted for two moons, before the _trikru_ , long enemies of the _azgedakru,_ attacked one of your people's villages on the edge of your territory. You had wetted your blade for the first time with _trikru_ blood at the age of fifteen and the wars between your people had lasted long after _Heda Sorsha_ was killed in a battle between _floukru_ and _plaikru_.

The fighting had only stopped once _Heda Leksa_ had brought together the coalition, after three long years of negotiations between the clans.

But those negotiations had cost _azgeda_ ; it had cost them _dearly_ , which was no surprise as _Heda_ was _trikru,_ and her hatred of your people was well known and partially deserved due to Nia's fifteen years reign over _azgedakru_.

" _It's okay,_ " Raven says with a smirk as she nudges your shoulder. " _If it turns out to be more negotiations, at least we have Klark. We all know how good she is with that mouth of hers._ "

The group laughs and you roll your eyes, simultaneously amused and disgusted. " _The Commander would be more likely to be on the recieving end of my blade than the recieving end of my mouth. Not that she'd ever associate herself with anyone of azgedakru any more than neccessary, or even part for a moment with her trikru lover to recieve either._ "

" _You sound almost bitter, Klark. Are you jealous of Kostia?_ " Belomi says in jest, though he notices almost immediately the way that your companions tense at his words and he grimaces at the slip of his tongue.

" _Of Kostia? No._ " You answer with forced calm, even as you feel Raven's hand trail soothingly over your thigh. " _Of Leksa? Yes. At least she got to keep her lover after the wars._ "

The _'I did not'_ goes unspoken, but it's heard nonetheless.

You stand and walk away from the group without another word, slipping into the trees that surround your camp. You have been on the road to Polis for twelve days, and you will reach the capitol in two more, though you wish that you had a longer wait. You have no wish to reach the capitol or to attend the summit, no matter how curious you are. You would be happy to spend the rest of your life away from the capitol and away from the woman who rules it with an iron fist, if you had the choice.

You haven't gotten far before you hear footsteps following you and you pause in the shadow of a nearby oak as you wait for your company to arrive. Bare moments pass before Raven slips between the trees behind you, her tanned skin illuminated by the moonlight shining through the canopy above your heads. She meets your gaze from across the short distance between you and you can see the sadness in her eyes that is surely reflected in your own.

" _It's been over two years,_ " you whisper into the heavy silence, the words sounding too loud in the quiet forest. " _More than two years and it still_ hurts."

" _I know,_ " Raven replies, her voice equally soft and husky with emotion. " _Me too._ "

You bite your lip and turn your face away, your eyes remaining dry even as your chest aches horribly. You haven't cried about it in years, you aren't sure that you _can_ anymore, though there is a part of you that wishes that you could, if only to release some of the hurt that just _lingers._

Two years. _Two years_ since _Fin_ suffered the pain of eighteen deaths. You remember the day clearly, as if it was yesterday, and you remember the events that led up to it, always wondering what you could have done differently to prevent it.

You were nineteen and the Commander had been in the last stages of negotiation with the twelve clans, but the fighting was still happening. You had been leading a skirmish on the edge of your territory where _trikru_ warriors had been spotted the day before and it had gone badly. You were split up from your people and you had been chased relentlessly across the border and into _trikru_ territory, where you had played a game of cat and mouse for days. You hadn't known that your comrades had returned to your city and that your mother had sent people out to search for you.

You had lost some items across the way, including your father's dagger, which had been picked up by the _trikru_ warriors and taken to one of their villages and that's where Fin had found it and had assumed the worst.

He'd always been so _peaceful,_ always calm and never quick to anger. But he had been so sure that they'd found you, that they'd killed you, and Raven had found you much too late to stop it.

He'd killed eighteen people before the warriors of the village had managed to subdue him, all women and children and elders.

The commander arrived the next day.

You remember standing there, on the edge of the crowd, watching as Fin suffered the pain of eighteen deaths. You had bit your lip so hard that blood dripped off your chin in an effort not to echo his screams as he was cut into and torn apart. It was cruel, the way the gods gave him the strength the live through it, right until the end.

You remember watching, unable to look away as the commander's sword slid into his chest so easily, those cold green eyes finding yours in the crowd and refusing to look away, even as Fin's life ended on the edge of her blade.

Raven had to physically drag you away when you had lunged forward without thought, intent on ripping the commander's throat out with your teeth.

And then commander was gone, giving the final word that Fin's ashes were to be returned to his people once his body had been burned, along with a message for your mother to make the journey to Polis, as soon as possible.

A moon later, _azgedakru_ had become the twelvth clan of the coalition. Fin was dead and you had wanted to wage wars in your rage and grief and it was no longer possible.

" _I don't know if I can do this, Raven,"_ you whisper, exhaling shakily when your friend crosses the distance between you with a few steps to lay her hand on your shoulder.

" _You can._ " Raven says firmly, squeezing the muscle beneath her hand. " _If anyone can do this, it's you, Klark. You're the strongest person I know._ "

You bite your lip so hard that you taste blood, closing your eyes when Raven rests her forehead against your temple. You soak up the comfort, knowing that you will need it, no matter how weak it makes you feel to want it, and you feel a tiny shred better when Raven finally pulls away.

" _Come on, prisa,"_ Raven murmurs, tugging your arm. " _Let's get some rest. We will need all what we can get to survive the next few weeks._ "

You follow her back to camp in silence.

Two days pass much too quickly and before you know it, you have reached the border of Polis.

You pause collectively at the sign on the edge of the city, commanding you to remove your weapons before entry. You turn around in your saddle, glancing at your companions from over your shoulder with a serious expression as you reach for your father's dagger at your waist.

You barely manage to lay your hand on the hilt before you burst into laughter, nudging your horse into a walk as you pass the sign, weapons intact, with your friends laughter ringing in your ears as they follow you.

You finally dismount from your house when you reach the outskirts of the city proper, your head tilting backwards involuntarily as you gaze up at the building towering above you. You remember how completely awestruck you had been when you were fourteen, laying your eyes upon that magnificent structure for the first time, taller than half the mountains in your territory. To be completely honest, not much has changed this time around.

Except for the person inside.

" _Fuck,_ " Raven breathes out as she dismounts at your side, sliding down from the saddle as her brown eyes stay firmly fixed on the building. You turn your head to gaze at her, remembering that this is Raven's first time to the capitol, and you can't help but smile softly at how completely awestruck she is.

You haven't seen her face light up like this since she created an old world explosive, after reading from a row of old world books on the subject. You had been there when she had used it to litterally explode an old abadoned hut on the outskirts of your territory, and you had both been thrown off your feet by the blast and half defeaned. You had then run away as fast as your feet could carry you, before someone discovered you at the scene of the crime.

It became moot point months later, your mother figuring it out when you used the same explosive during a battle against the _trikru._ It hadn't killed any of their warriors, but it had kept them out of your territory for three moons before they gained the courage to return.

Your smile drops from your lips immediately when you take notice of a figure striding proudly towards you from the corner of your eye. You straighten your spine and clench your jaw as you turn to face the woman who stalks towards your party angrily, her eyes narrowed as she glares directly at you.

"What are _you_ doing here?" She asks you in _gonasleng_ as she stops a few feet away, her almond coloured eyes flickering briefly over your _kru_ before resting once more upon you. "Where is your queen?"

"Couldn't make the trip," you answer flippantly, causing the woman's eyes to narrow impossibly further. "It's been a hard winter for us, and our people come first."

For a moment, you think that the woman is going to hit you, her hands clenching into fists at the underlying insult, but then she just rolls her eyes. "It is probably for the best."

"That is the truth," you answer, bluntly.

The woman finally lets a familiar smirk tip her lips, stepping closer to you before holding out her arm. You reach out and grab it without hesitation, your fingers wrapping firmly around her forearm and squeezing.

" _Klark._ " She says.

" _Onya."_ You return with a tight smile of your own before releasing your grip.

"Time has been good to you," she says easily, completely ignoring your party as she turns on her heel and begins to walk further into the city, clearly expecting you to follow. "You look well."

You match her step for step, once you pass over your reins to Raven, leaving your people to trail along behind you. You glance at her out of the corner of your eye, admiring the shade of her dirty blonde hair that is braided back from her face and her sharp, high cheekbones. "As do you."

 _Onya kom trikru,_ you think with a small shake of your head as you walk by her side. You had been enemies for _years,_ trading blows in the heat of battle and your eyes linger briefly on the scar on her forearm, where you had gripped her only moments ago, caused by your own sword. You had plenty from her on your own body, the most notable being the long scar on your thigh, from her dagger when you were only seventeen. You couldn't help but respect her over the years as you fought against each other, respect her strength and her intelligence and the loyalty she drew effortlessly from her people. That respect had only grown stronger once the coalition had been created, along with an admiration of the other woman that you knew was returned.

You had spent the last two years dealing with her every other moon, as you traded with each others clans. You had even spent a few long nights with her in taverns in both of your territories, trading war stories and comparing scars.

You hate to admit it, but you actually kind of _like_ her.

" _The commander will not be pleased,_ " Onya says almost casually in your native tongue as you walk through the Polis markets, your eyes flickering over wares that can only be found in the capitol. You are not surprised to hear Onya speak the language of _azgedakru,_ rather than that of _gonasleng_ or even _trigedesleng._ You know that she speaks the language of each clan, same as you, though it is a rare thing to for other clans to speak _azgedesleng_ , as it is the most difficult dialect of your people.

Which is why she speaks it to you now, knowing that there will be less chance that your conversation is overheard.

" _The commander is never pleased to see azgedakru,_ " you reply easily, pausing briefly outside of a market stall to gaze appreciatively at a sky blue scarf made of soft, light fabric. It flutters enticingly in the wind and you raise an eyebrow when it's pulled off the rack by Onya, who throws a few coins on the counter before throwing the scarf around your neck.

"A gift," she says, her almond coloured eyes twinkling as she adjusts the fabric around your neck. "Only the best for the _azgeda prisa._ It matches your eyes."

You roll the eyes in question, though a smile tugs at your lips as you accept the gift graciously in _trigedesleng_. " _Mochof, Onya kom Trikru._ "

" _Pro,_ " she returns, before beginning to walk once more, in the direction of the commander's tower. She continues to speak after several moments of comfortable silence. _"Did you really have to bring so many warriors with you?"_

" _What?_ " You ask, almost teasing. " _Not enough room in that giant tower for all of us?"_

" _Of course,_ " Onya murmurs demurely, gesturing towards the grand structure. " _It is big enough to fit your entire clan. I only wonder if the commander will allow so many of you inside._ "

" _If the commander won't accomodate all of us, she will accomodate none_ ," you reply with a hint of bitterness, earning a sharp look from the warrior at your side. " _My people and I will camp on the outskirts of the city if neccessary._ _I would not want to make the commander_ uncomfortable."

" _It will not be a problem,_ " Onya says smoothly as you finally reach the guarded door of the commander's tower. " _I will make sure of it. Come, let's find you and your people a place._ "

You watch with wary eyes as Onya passes you and enters the tower, without looking back. You turn your head slightly to regard your people, who stand in a group of thirty strong behind you, gazing up at the tower with similiar caution.

"Come on," you say in _gonasleng,_ straightening your shoulders and holding your head up high. "Let's all just hope that it doesn't fall down."

 _At least not while we're inside,_ you think silently, before striding into the build with an air of confidence that you don't entirely feel.

Your people are placed on an abadoned floor of the tower, far away from the leaders of the other clans and even further still from the commander's quarters. You find yourself surprised at the grandness of your rooms, having expected to be placed in the most uncomfortable part of the tower that the commander could possibly offer. Onya leaves you as soon as she usher you inside your room, after half begging and half demanding for you and your people to stay put and not wander until she returns. You aren't sure of what worries her most; the other clans starting a fight with your people, or your people ending it.

Both would have an extremely negative impact on the coalition, which is something that you don't want, no matter how enticing the idea.

You wander around your quarters, taking in the large bed that dominates the room, the bookshelves lined with old tombs and the bathing room, hidden behind a fabric covered doorway. Your favourite part is the windows, which allow you to look down upon the city of Polis from the sixtieth floor of the tower, reminding you of the mountains that surround your home.

You've barely been left alone for an hour when the knock comes at your door, causing you to lay down your book with a soft thud on the bedside table. You assume that Onya has returned as you wander over to the door, but you are surprised to find an unfamiliar face when you turn the handle and pull it open.

You stare at the woman on the other side, whose long dark hair falls over her broad shoulders in waves, braided traditionally and twisted with flowers and beads of blues and greens. Her skin is deeply tanned, with crinkles at the corners of her bright, lively grey eyes and her plush pink lips pulled up in a smirk. She stands about a hand taller than you and her long legs are encased in soft dark leather, with a loose, dark blue flowing shirt that hangs off one shoulder.

She is very beautiful, you notice almost immediately, as your eyes rake over her form, but you hide your appreciation behind your stoic expression.

"Hello," she says, in _gonasleng,_ her light, accented voice pleasant to your ears.

"Hello," you return, your voice much deeper and huskier than hers. She raises her eyebrows in pleasant surprise at the sound before smiling more fully.

"I'm sorry," she says, after a few moments of silence. "I had heard that _Klark kom azgeda_ had been escorted into the city and I found myself curious."

"Oh?" You ask, raising an eyebrow and straightening your shoulders subconciously. "Do I meet your expectations?"

"Mostly," she answers with a mischevious twinkle in her stormy grey eyes. "I did expect you to be taller, but you are much prettier than I imagined, so it balances out."

You can't help the chuckle that escapes from your lips, reaching out without hesitation to grip the forearm that the other woman offers you.

"I am _Luna kom floukru,_ " she says and the pieces click together in your head at her introduction. You had heard much from your mother about Luna, who the queen had spoken almost fondly of, and now you understand why. "It is a pleasure to meet you, _Klark kom azgedakru._ "

"The pleasure is mine," you murmur, holding her gaze and squeezing her forearm warmly before finally letting your hand drop. Luna opens her mouth to say more, but she is interrupted by sharp footsteps echoing along the stone floor. You turn your head, unsurprised to find Onya walking towards you swiftly, raising an eyebrow at Luna who takes a step away from you immediately at her harsh gaze.

"Why am I not surprised to find the two of you together?" Onya asks exasperatedly, coming to a stop at your side and giving Luna a frustrated glare. "Especially after I made the order that this level was completely out of bounds to all clans but _azgedakru._ "

"Such a command sounds so _inviting_ to those with a curious nature," Luna offers, winking at you and causing your lips to pull up into a smirk. "It is like putting a meal in front of a starving man and telling him that he cannot eat it."

"Even so," Onya murmurs warningly. "I do not want to catch you here again, _Luna,_ or it will be the commander that you have to deal with. Now, return to your quarters; _Heda_ has commanded that the leaders of each _kru_ will dine with her tonight, before the summit tomorrow evening. You may bring two of your people, though it is advised that you do not bring a weapon, unless you wish to face the same fate as the last guest who came before _Heda_ with one."

"I certainly do not wish to _accidentally_ fall from the top of this tower," Luna says demurely, with a small smirk curling the corner of her lips as she turns to walk away. "Though, it would be nice to have the freedom of flying, if only for a few moments before I was _not_."

Onya rolls her eyes as Luna swaggers down the corridor before slipping into the elevator shaft, though you can't help but look after the woman with admiration. Onya gives you a warning look at your appreciative gaze and it's an effort to morph your expression into one of innocence.

"Do not even think about it," the older woman almost growls, grabbing you firmly by your arm and practically dragging you into your room.

"I am not thinking about anything," you protest, though it is half hearted at best. You raise an eyebrow when Onya swings around, fast, so that her face is mere inches from yours and your chests are brushing together.

"Don't lie," Onya says, the words almost a snarl, and you raise a curious eyebrow in response. "I have been on the recieving end of that gaze, more than once. I know exactly what you are thinking."

"You were not complaining at the time," you purr, only grinning when Onya litterally _growls_ before pushing you away from her with a grimace, though it was much gentler than you probably deserved.

" _Shop of,_ " she says, stepping around you and making her way to the door, her spine rigid. "Try to dress appropraitely tonight. I have informed the commander of your prescence and as expected, she was not pleased. You would do well to be on your best behaviour, if you do not want to be thrown out of this tower, _literally._ "

She leaves you in silence, with that warning bouncing around your skull.


	3. Chapter 3

The twelve clans:

Ice Nation : Azgedakru, which can be shortened to Azgeda

Woods Clan : Trigedakru, which can be shortened to Trikru

Boat People : Floudonkru, which can be shortened to Floukru

Desert Clan : Sangedakru

Lake People : Podakru

Delphi Clan : Delfikru

Glowing Forest : Trishana

Plains Riders : Ingranrona

Blue Cliff Clan : Ouskejonkru

Shadow Valley : Louwoda Kliron

Rock Line : Boudalan

Broadleaf : Yujleda

For the purpose of this story and because it seems right to me, after most of these clans were enemies before the coalition, though it does not seem to be so on the show, each kru has a different language or dialect, though they will not all been shown in this story. On the show, the grounders all speak in trigedesleng, which in this story will be the most common of the dialects, with gonasleng (english) also being used most commonly to talk between each different clan. Clarke and her people will use azgedasleng, which I have made to be one of the most difficult dialects in this story, because I like having her to speak a language that not many others can understand, outside of the ice nation.

" _Hold still_ ," Raven growls into your ear as her fingers fumble with the clasp of your armor, freshly polished. " _Must you be so_ difficult?"

" _I'm trying,_ " you hiss in response, feeling your muscles jerk and twitch beneath the other woman's touch. You blatently ignore Belomi, who leans against the wall with his muscular arms crossed, smirking in amusement as you fidgit like a _yougon._ " _It is uncomfortable._ "

" _Is it too tight, prisa?_ " Belomi asks you with a maddening smirk on his lips. " _This coalition has not been kind to your body, it seems. Maybe you should spend more time in the fighting pits, rather than sitting around on your ass, reading all day._ "

" _I will_ end _you,_ " you snarl as Raven and Belomi laugh uproariously. " _I still best you every morning when we spar, and I barely break a sweat. I have never been stronger or fitter than I am now, coalition or no._ "

" _Of course, Klark,_ " Raven murmurs soothingly, though her voice still shakes in attempt to hold back her mirth. She pulls the strap of your shoulder armor so tight that you grunt, scowling at Belomi as he bites his lip to hold back his laughter. " _Though, it is true that your body has filled out some since you wore this armor last._ "

Raven wasn't wrong on that count, since you had been nineteen when you had last donned your full armor, and your body had still been developing, somewhat. While your body _was_ as strong as it had ever been, showing in your muscular arms and thighs and the rippling abdominals that you were so proud of, you had grown _fuller_ in other places.

Your breasts were kind of big, is what Raven was trying to say, which is why your armor had grown so _constricting_ since you had last worn it.

You sigh with relief when Raven finally buckles the last clasp of your armor, standing from your seat and rolling your shoulders in attempt to become accustomed to the added weight. You turn to face your friends, straightening your spine and lifting your chin as you hold out your arms.

" _How do I look?"_ You ask, holding back a smirk at Raven's appreciative grin and Belomi's impressed gaze. " _Will I pass the commander's test?_ "

You had bathed once Onya had left your room, washing the grime and dirt from your skin and hair in the luxiourious bath in your chambers. You had intricately braided your golden blonde hair back from your face, weaving black and white feathers and beads into the locks that smelled of sandalwood, same as your skin. You applied smudges of dark kohl around your eyes, highlighting the blue of your gaze before you had dressed in a pair of tight black leather pants and a sleeveless black tunic.

The armor that you wore had been made for you specifically, fitting your body like a second skin. You had scrubbed the steel and leather for an hour until each and every piece was shining proudly, before calling for Raven to help you don it. The leather chest plate was black as night, though the stitching was bright blue to match your eyes, with intricate leather straps that criss crossed over your chest and back. Your shoulder plates were made of shining silver steel, with swirling designs etched into the metal, matching the same design stitched into your black leather bracers that covered your forearms. Lastly, your leopard skin cloak hung from your shoulders, swirling around your feet as you spun around gracefully, for your companions amusement.

You cut an impressive figure, if you do say so yourself.

" _You look perfect_ ," Raven says earnestly, with a grin tugging at her lips. " _The commander isn't going to know what hit her._ "

" _I have to agree with Raven for once_. _You look great, Klark._ " Belomi says with his eyebrows raised as his dark eyes scan over your form. " _Though I would still prefer it if you didn't actually_ hit _the commander. I do not want to deal with the mess that you two would create if you came to blows._ "

" _I wonder who would win,_ " Raven wonders aloud, even as you snort in amusement and shake your head. You gesture your friends to the door, nodding your head approvingly at their state of dress and their polished armor as you follow them from the room and lock it behind you.

You feel a hint of nerves as you pass the guard who is stationed outside the elevator, ignoring his look of blantent curiousity mixed with a hint of distrust as you step inside. He forces the doors closed behind you and after a few moments, the elevator begins to move, causing Raven to curse.

" _I do not think that I will ever get used to this,_ " she says as you and Belomi laugh, because it's so strange that this woman, who knows more about old world technology than anyone you had ever met, cannot feel comfortable inside a piece of it.

" _Hopefully we will not be here long enough for you to have to,_ " you say, standing straight as you wait for the elevator to stop, even as you simultaneously wish that it wouldn't.

It does, and the doors as pulled open by two burly men, warriors of Polis, who gesture for you step out. You walk out into the corridor, where you take notice of the two double doors at the other end that you stride towards. You are concious of everything, of your companions walking a step behind you, of your cloak floating around your ankles, of your fingers that twitch for a weapon that isn't there. You keep your back straight and your chin up, displaying strength and a confidence that you don't feel as you finally reach the doors, your fingers hovering over the handles before you push them open.

" _Fuck_ ," Raven whispers under her breath as you step into the room and your eyes land first on the absolutely _massive_ table that dominates the room. It stretches from one side of the room to the other, made of beautiful dark wood, with at least fifty chairs to match. On one end of the table sits a throne like chair, with swirling branches like the antlers of a buck, which you know is the commander's seat. She is still yet to arrive, though it seems as if pretty much _everyone else_ has arrived before you.

Which was your plan, of course.

You make eye contact with every single person in the room, taking in everything, from the way that they dress to where they stand; noting who is closest to the commander's seat and who is furthest away. You easily pick out the leaders of each _kru,_ simply from the way that they dress and you take in the way each person looks back at you, whether they meet your eyes or whether they look away.

You take a moment to look around the rest of the room, noting the guards who are stationed at each corner and every possible escape route. Your eyes search for anything that can be used as a weapon, most notably the cutlery on the table, but you could use a chair if needed, or even one of the many candlestick holders that are placed around the room.

Shit, if worse came to worst, you could just knock over some of the candles before running away, since there were so many of them that the room would be ablaze quicker than if you were using one of Raven's explosives.

You are surprised to note that a place has been left for you right in the middle of the table, since you had expected to be seated as far away from the commander as possible. You stalk towards your seat quickly, standing behind your chair as Raven and Belomi move to stand on either side of you.

When you look up, you are simply delighted to find that Luna is standing directly across from you, looking equally pleased at the seating arrangements. You share a smirk, but the moment is broken by the sound of the doors positively _slamming_ open.

You don't turn around, even as everyone else in the room does, directing their gaze at the woman who has entered. The echo of the doors slamming against the walls is still ringing in your ears, but you can still hear the sharp, fast steps of light feet crossing the stone floor. You fight the urge to roll your eyes as the dramatic entrance, keeping your gaze focused straight ahead.

There is a scraping of a chair and the noise finally causes you to turn your head to face the the end of the table. The commander's guards have pulled back her throne, which she now stands in front of, radiating an aura of power and confidence as she gazes around the table. Her eyes, a striking shade of green like the forest from whence she came, meet each and every persons gaze, until said person lowers their head in submission.

Soon, every head is bowed, except yours.

Despite where you're standing, somehow, for some reason, the commander waits to meet your gaze last. Everyone around you still has their head lowered, even Raven and Belomi, when her eyes meet yours, seeming to stare straight through you. Her expression does not change, though you can see the subtle tightening around her lips as you meet her stare defiantly and you imagine that this is what _electricity_ feels like when it courses through ones veins _._

You hold her stare for what feels like a lifetime, until you can practically feel the tension thickening the air of the room. The muscles in your neck are tight and defiant still when you finally lower your eyes and force yourself to bow your head in submission and you feel sick from the action.

It is thankfully only a few moments later that the commander takes her seat, allowing you to lift your head, though you keep your eyes averted from hers. She waves her hand dismissively from the corner of your eye, allowing the rest of you to take your places around the table. You feel some of the tension leave your muscles when you once again meet Luna's gaze from across the table, her grey eyes practically _sparkling._

"Thank you all for joining me this evening," The commander breaks the heavy silence with her soft voice, her _politics_ voice, your mother calls it. "I am glad to see that you all arrived in the capitol unharmed. Tonight, we are here to eat and drink and celebrate the success of the coalition, without the heaviness of politics. Tonight, I would have you tighten the bonds between our people, to share food and wine and stories, for tomorrow, we will need to be strong and talk as one, to discuss the future of our people."

The commander waves her hand once more, and young men and women begin to enter the room, carrying platters of meats and vegetables and jugs of wine. The abundance of food is enough to make your mouth water and you share a small grin with Raven when a huge platter of wild boar is placed on the table before you, smelling delicious. No one waits for another order from the commander, simply digging in to the dishes placed before them enthusiastically and you are grateful for it, because you are _starving._

You pick up the large knife laid upon the platter beside the boar, twirling it expertly in your fingers as you meet Luna's eyes from across the table. The others that surround you watch you warily, and you can feel the commander's hard gaze on the side of your head, but you ignore them with ease.

"Hungry?" You practically purr at the other woman, earning a barely surpressed grin from the dark haired leader of the _floudonkru_.

" _Starving_ ," she says in response, her eyes twinkling madly with amusement.

"Then allow me," you say, sliding the knife easily into the boar and cutting off a piece, half standing from your seat to place it on Luna's plate. You can feel eyes on you, but all you are focused on is Luna's face as she tries to repress her laughter. "I serve you in hopes of binding our people closer together, _Luna kom floukru._ May the peace between _floukru_ and _azgedakru_ be forever lasting."

You sit back in your seat, slicing off a few more pieces of boar and placing them on your plate and those of your companions as Luna chokes on her laughter. Thankfully, conversation begins to pick up around the table once you place the knife back down on the platter, and some of the tension dissapates from the room.

"You are the _worst_ ," Raven whispers from your side, though you can see her smiling around her mouthful of boar.

"I am simply following the commander's wishes," you murmur back demurely, causing Belomi to choke on a piece of meat. You smack him roughly on the back without even looking at him. "I am being on my _best_ behaviour."

You let your eyes wander briefly around the room, returning the gazes that are already focused on you confidently, before moving on to the next person. You skip over the commander's seat, though you let your eyes linger momentarily on the man who sits to her right. He stares back at you harshly and you let a small smile play upon your lips as you return his gaze, popping a piece of boar into your mouth absentmindedly.

 _Gustos,_ you know him well, having fought against him in years past, though you had never managed to find a common ground or mutual respect for each other like you had with _Onya._ He is the commander's right hand man, her confidant and advisor, and he has _despised_ your people long since before your mother was crowned. Nia had burnt down his home village when she still reigned, killing his entire family in one day while the man had been training in Polis, many years ago. He would never forgive your people for that, even though your leaders had changed and the _azgeda_ now lacked the pure brutality that came with Nia's reign.

Your mother was first and foremost a healer, after all, and a warrior second.

You turn away from Gustus, letting your blue eyes slip to the commander's left and you are surprised to find this person staring straight back at you, too. She is picking apart a piece of venison with her bare hands as she meets your gaze, though her eyes lack the anger and suspicion that Gustos' held. Her wide eyes are a light hazel, contrasting with her dark skin and midnight coloured hair beautifully, and they stare back at you with frank curiousity and a hint of amusement. She is clothed in a light, white linen shirt, which flows over her dark skin and her long hair is pulled back from her angular face in braids, her prominent cheekbones dusted with gold glitter. She is, to put it simply, absolutely _stunning_ , and though you have never seen her before, you know exactly who she is.

 _Kostia,_ the commander's lover.

You feel a prickle of bitterness but you push it down firmly, knowing that this woman has done nothing to earn your animosity. You know too well that you can't choose whom you love and you will not fault this woman for who her heart has chosen.

You incline your head in acknowledgement and give her your most gentle smile, earning a pleasantly surprised look in response and a flash of white teeth before you turn your head away.

And of course, your eyes fall on Onya, then.

She is seated in between Gustus and a dark skinned woman who is scowling angrily down at her plate, whom you know to be Indra, the leader of the _trikru_. Onya's almond coloured eyes are fixed darkly on you, a mixture of emotions swirling in their depths, which is almost frightening. There is a hint of anger there and suspicion, along with a heavy dose of frustration as she stares back at you and you aren't _entirely_ sure what you've done to earn it. You hold her gaze for several long moments before you finally turn your attention back to Luna, who is grinning back at you with more than a hint of mischief.

 _Ah,_ you think, as you take a long sip of your wine. _Now it makes sense._

You have a feeling that this dinner is going to drag.

Dinner turns out to be surprising pleasant and hugely hilarious, once you've managed to completely ignore the hostile looks that are focused on you from around the table.

The food is cleared away once everyone has eaten their fill, and it's replaced by more jugs of wine and the mead that Polis is known so well for, and the commander's obvious plan to get you all drunk so that you will talk more easily is both an excellent and horrible idea.

It takes an hour of drinking before a fight breaks out, unsurprisingly between _Rake kom Sangedakru_ and _Mika kom Ingranrona,_ enemies long before the coalition brought their people together. They are both escorted back to their rooms by the guards, the fight thankfully having been stopped after only a few blows, by the commander.

Meanwhile, yourself and Luna had been plying the leader of the _Louwoda Kliron_ with excessive amounts of mead until the man's head hit the table and his snores echoed throughout the room, drowned out by your laughter. His companions had to physically carry him from the room once it became obvious that he wasn't able to walk on his own and you had to cover your face to hide your grin, ignoring Onya's heady glare from the other end of the table.

' _I'm going to kill you.'_ The woman mouths towards you when you finally turn your head to meet her gaze, but you've drunk enough that you can do no more than laugh at the threat.

"By the gods of the old world," Luna says happily from her seat across from you, leaning back and folding her hands over her stomach with a bright smile. "This is the most fun that I've had in years. You will have to visit my lands once business has been concluded in the capitol, _Klark._ Our wine is known for it's strength and I believe that you would enjoy it immensly."

"I would be honoured," you return earnestly, agreeing with the leader of the _floukru._ You catch a glimpse of Raven's head bobbing unsteadily out of the corner of your eye and you decide to end the night before your companion passes out on the table. "As much fun as this has been though, I'm afraid that I will have to call it a night. We have travelled far from my territory and my companions are I are weary from the trip."

Even as you're speaking, you are standing from your seat, gripping Raven's hand and pulling her blearily up with you. Luna makes a move as if to follow you, but she pauses when another figure stands up from the other end of the table.

"I will accompany you," Onya says, slipping out of her chair gracefully. You meet her gaze and raise an eyebrow, but you shrug your shoulders in agreement after a few moments of consideration. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the commander watching her general with curiousity and something else that you cannot define.

"Very well," you say nochalantly, before turning back to Luna. "It has been a long while since I've been to the capitol. Would you mind showing me around Polis in the morning?"

"Make it late morning and you have an agreement," Luna answers, leaning further back in her seat with a lazy grin. "I will see you then, _prisa Klark._ "

You incline your head with a small smile, passing Raven off to Belomi, who grips her forearm firmly to keep her upright. At last, you turn your gaze to the woman who still sits at the end of the table, who has been watching your interactions throughout the night with an intensity that made your skin crawl.

" _Heda,_ " you say, bowing your head, made much easier by the wine coursing through your veins. You lift your gaze to meet the commander's stare once more, finding her eyes fixed firmly upon your face.

" _Reshop, Klark prisa kom Azgedakru._ " She says softly in return, and your eyebrows furrow slightly at the way your name rolls distinctly off her tongue. You don't think anyone has ever said your name like that before and the shiver it sends down your spine unnerves you momentarily. Her green eyes are made more intense, surrounded as they are by kohl, and your eyes linger briefly on the way her lips twitch as you hold her stare.

You turn away from the woman quickly, moving towards the door without waiting for Onya. You slip into the corridor, holding the door open for Belomi and Raven and you are surprised when your hand is covered briefly a moment later, where your fingers are wrapped tightly around the wood.

Onya's hand is gone as quickly as it came, and the door swings closed behind you as the older woman meets your gaze before gesturing for to follow behind your friends.

" _I know that must have been hard for you,_ " she says in _azgedesleng_ once you have wandered far enough away from the door. " _But you did very well. I was almost proud for a moment._ "

You roll your eyes at the less than subtle sarcasm, bumping your shoulder against the _trikru_ warrior's arm as you walk down the hallway. " _Shop of._ "

You are quiet when you enter the elevator and when you take Raven to her room, Onya lingers by the guard outside, speaking to him in harsh _trigedesleng._ You say goodnight to Belomi, whose eyes linger briefly on Onya before he departs to his own bed, before opening the door to your quarters with a relieved sigh. You kick off your boots by the door, before your fingers begin to unclasp your cloak from around your shoulders, laying it over the back of a chair. You hear the door close quietly behind you as Onya follows you inside, before you feel deft fingers unbuckling your armor with ease and you are so tired that you allow it.

It is not long until you are left in just your pants and tunic, and you sit down in the seat by your window wearily. Onya takes the seat across from you and you both stare out of the window in companionable silence.

"What did you say to the guard?" You ask her after what feels like hours, turning to look at the small smirk that graces the other warrior's lips at your words.

"I told him to, under no circumstances, let _Luna kom floukru_ into this room, unless his wishes to die by the pain of a thousand cuts," she replies easily and you snort loudly with amusement at her admission.

"You are such a pain in my ass," you say, nudging the other woman's thigh with your foot, only for her to grab it between her hands and press her fingers into a pressure point, causing you to pull back with a scowl. " _Nomonjoka._ "

"As you are in mine," Onya replies with a small shrug, though her smile softens the words. "I fear that if I leave the two of you alone together, that this tower will not last any longer. The trouble that the two of you could cause would be more explosive than the bombs that destroyed the old world."

"You are as dramatic as the commander," you say in response with a chuckle, though you do not doubt the older woman's words. "Luna is amusing and I like her. We could be friends. The people of my _kru_ will not be allowed in most of the meetings with the commander. It would be nice to have at least one person there that does not despise me."

"I do not despise you," Onya says, almost petulantly. You raise an eyebrow at the almost compliment, letting a smile tip your lips as you nudge her once more with your foot. She scowls at you but makes no move to capture it this time.

"I know," you say, even though she _should._ "You _are_ a friend, Onya, but it would be nice to have more than one here."

Onya says nothing for several minutes before finally tilting her head in acknowledgement, and then says, "speaking of meetings with the commander; you have one."

You furrow your brow. "I know, tomorrow evening at the summit."

"No," Onya answers slowly, looking both amused and worried. "Tomorrow morning. She wishes to speak to you, alone."

You feel a cold shiver race down your spine and you clench your hands into fists. "That doesn't sound daunting at all."

"You will be fine, _Klark,_ " she says reassuringly, meeting your eyes with her intense gaze. "She will not hurt you."

"That is not what I am worried about," you say softly, tearing your gaze from Onya's to stare out the window at Polis. You feel her understanding in the way she grips your ankle, and she stays long after you fall asleep in your seat, her touch welcome and comforting.


	4. Chapter 4

You wake at dawn, as you almost always do, cringing at the dull throb in your skull that lingers after last night's dinner. You crack your eyes open to find the room still blessedly dark, though there is a half melted candle on your bedside table, flickering weakly, along with a glass filled with water. You take a moment to wonder how you got into bed, since you don't remember leaving your chair the night before, but you figure it must be Onya's doing, along with the blessed glass of water. You thank her silently as you gulp it down, feeling the throb in your head lessen only fractionally, but it's enough to push you out of bed in search for more.

After you've drunk your fill, you change out of last night's clothes and into a loose white sleeveless shirt and a pair of tight black leggings. You scoop down to pick up your identical twin blades from where they rest, hidden beneath your bed, thinner and lighter than the broadsword that was given to you by your mother on the day of your eighteenth year. They are your favourite weapons, crafted for your hands by a blacksmith who lives on the coast when you were fifteen, and you feel stronger with them in your hands.

You step out into the corridor and close the door to your room behind you, glancing briefly at the guard by the elevator as you hold your blades beneath your arm. You walk down towards the next door on your left and knock gently before opening the door and stepping inside.

Belomi's silouette stands by the bed, which is smaller than yours though not by much. He is already dressed, in a pair of loose pants and a sleeveless black shirt, similar to your own, with a broadsword in his hand.

" _You ready?_ " You ask him, your voice husky from sleep and you recieve a nod in return. You jerk your head towards the open door. " _I'm going to get Raven and some of the others too. I feel like a challenge this morning._ "

Belomi rolls his eyes at your jab, though his lips are tilted upwards in a smile as he follows you into the corridor. You wake up a groaning Raven first, leaving her with Belomi to prepare before you knock on the doors of _Monti and Jaspa,_ so that they can join you. You lead your group into the elevator once they are ready and tell the guard that you wish to return to the ground, so that you can visit the sparring grounds that Onya had spoken to you about yesterday.

It takes several minutes before you reach the lowest level, but the cool morning air brushing against your exposed skin is worth the persisting ache in your skull as you step outside.

" _This way_ ," you say, leading your friends through the city, as Polis begins to wake as the sky turns from black to gray. It is a short walk to the training grounds, which is just a large fenced off area of hard packed dirt, not far from the commander's tower. " _This will do."_

You jump over the gate with your companions following behind you and you take a deep breath before you start your warm up. You move your body slowly, twisting and turning gracefully as you arc your blades around your body with careful presicion. You can see your comrades moving in similar patterns in an attempt to loosen their muscles and begin their blood pumping and it makes you smile proudly, how obvious their strength and discipline is as they move.

As you are warming up, you are also moving further and further into the middle of the deserted training ground, with Belomi not far behind you. You begin your morning sparring the same way every day, and as you twist slowly into position, you bring up your swords to deflect the blow of Belomi's blade as it arcs towards your chest.

And then the fun truly begins.

You bat Belomi's broadsword away as if it's a toy, kicking out at his knee and grinning ferally when he twists out of the way at the last moment. You take an experimental swipe at his shoulder, which he blocks with ease, before you bring your other sword down and slam his blade from his hands with pure brute strength. He rolls away from your next blow with a grimace, hands scrambling for his weapon, and only just manages to duck your furious swing at his head. You keep your momentum, bringing your sword around as you spin on the spot and only just manage to bring it up in time to deflect Raven's blow.

You grin simultaneously as you smack her sword away, before you are suddenly ducking beneath a spear that's intent on taking off your head.

" _Shit, Jaspa,_ " you huff a laugh, rolling across the ground before coming up to your knees to block a swing from Belomi's sword. His sword clashes against yours loudly, scraping along the side of your blade before the edge gets caught in a knick and he bears down.

" _You wanted a challenge, prisa,_ " Belomi says with a grunt, the muscles in his arms and shoulders rippling as he pushes you down, until your back is arching slightly. You bring up your other sword to smack the tip of Jaspa's spear into the dirt, before you have to block a blow from Raven on your other side. You let your back arch further as the two of them work together to push you to the ground, before you lock your elbows and vault forwards with all of your strength, pushing them back long enough for you to somersault away and onto your feet once again.

You can feel a light sheen of sweat begin to cover your skin, though your breathing is still admirably even as you continue to parry and block every blow directed towards you from all sides. You are beginning to regret your desicion to ask Japsa and Monti to join you, along with Raven and Belomi. It is hard enough to fight off their furious blows without having to add Jaspa's spear to the mix or Monti's short swords.

You manage to roll underneath one of Raven's vicious swings directed for your head and it gives you enough time to catch your breath. It is also enough time for you to catch a glimpse of the people that have begun to line the fence, watching the sparing match with hungry eyes.

And right in the middle of the slowly forming crowd, positioned in between a glaring Gustos and a smirking Onya, stands the commander, watching you with intent green eyes, her expression as guarded as ever.

" _Fuck_ ," you whisper under your breath, wondering what you have gotten yourself into when you had only wanted to start your day with some harmless fun. You don't have long to think about it before Belomi is slashing directly at your face, which you only _just_ manage to deflect.

Despite recieving the perfect chance to show off, you feel the urge to end this as quickly as possible as you feel eyes burn into the back of your head. You duck under a swing from Raven's sword and parry Belomi's blade before spinning around to knock Jaspa's spear from his hands with a stinging blow, bringing your foot up to kick him harshly in the centre of his chest. He goes down with a wheezing gasp and hits the floor with a heavy thud, as you then have to twist away from Monti's short swords that reach for you to exact justice. You kick out furiously with one leg, catching Belomi in the thigh and manage to send him falling to one knee, even as you simultaneously smack away Raven's sword with one of your own and bring down the hilt of your other blade to crash upon her shoulder, sending her to the ground with a grunt of pain.

You dodge to the side to avoid a thrust from one of Monti's short swords before you bring your knee up into his stomach, causing him to instinctively curl inwards as your bone meets muscle with bruising force. With a silent apology, you use the momentary drop in his guard to slam your head into his, cringing at the burst of blood that explodes from his nose at the impact. He stumbles backwards from the blow, dropping his weapons as he raises his hands to his face and you kick the short swords away from Jaspa's reaching hands.

All of this happens in the space of a few seconds and when you spin around to face Raven and Belomi, you are glad to find both of them still breathless and on their knees. You bring your twin blades up to rest lightly against each of their necks, feeling a thrill race down your spine at the expressions of awe and respect on their faces.

" _Yield,_ " you say, though there is a hint of playfulness to your tone as you stare down at them both. It is satisfying to watch as they both drop their weapons to the ground before bowing their heads in submission, covered in dirt and sweat.

A shrill whistle breaks you out of the moment and you lift your head to catch a glimpse of Luna standing by the fence, a little ways down from the commander and her entourage. You grin back at her, pulling the edge of your sword away from Raven's neck to give her a short salute, before dropping your weapons to help your comrades back to their feet.

" _Take care of Monti, would you_?" You ask Belomi as you heave him off the ground, giving him a pat on his sweat covered shoulder. " _If his nose is broken, send for me and I will set it for him._ "

He nods his head obidiently, slipping past you to help Monti as you pick your swords up off the ground and take off at a light jog towards the fence. You arrive at Luna's side in mere moments, avoiding the gaze that you can feel burning into you from a few feet away as you hop over the fence agily.

"That was well fought _,_ " Luna says as she plucks at your sweat soaked shirt with a grin, her grey eyes dancing. The crowd is slowly beginning to move away from the training ground and you ignore their curious and wary eyes as they walk past you, keeping your attention focused on your new friend. "You are even more than what your legend tells, it seems."

"And what does my legend tell?" You ask her, curious to hear what she had heard about you. The smirk you recieve is not enough to prepare you for the words that slip from Luna's tongue.

"That you are a she demon from the very depths of hell," Luna laughs as you raise your eyebrows in surprise and amusement. "They were not half wrong, though they left out your admirable sense of humor."

"And many of my other admirable traits," you say with a smirk, causing Luna's eyes to twinkle merrily.

"I hear that they call you _Wanheda_ in _trikru_ territory," Luna says with a raise of her eyebrow, oblivious to the way your shoulders stiffen at the title. "Maybe we should find a new title for you? One which includes said _admirable traits._ "

"Do not bother," a gruff voice says from behind you, thick with anger and disgust. " _Wanheda_ suits her more aptly than any other title could manage."

You turn around slowly to face Gustos, who is glaring back at you evenly as you meet his gaze, standing much closer than he had been mere moments ago. You can feel your muscles tense and bunch in anticipation of a fight, but all the words that are burning on your tongue are stopped by the raise of the commander's hand.

" _Gustos_ ," she reprimands him with a harsh look, causing you to blink at her in surprise. Her green eyes are angry and disappointed as she gazes at her adviser. "Leave us."

Gustos gives you one last glare before bowing to his _heda_ and striding swiftly away, his huge muscles tense and his spine rigid with anger. You watch him as he disappears into the city, and there is a part of you that wishes that you could follow, if only to remind him why his people call you _Wanheda_ in the first place.

"I apologise for him," the commander says softly, using her politics voice once again, redirecting your attention back to her. You cut her off before she can continue, ignoring Onya's warning glare from over the commander's shoulder.

"There is no need, _heda_ ," you say, the words like poison on your tongue, and you feel both immensly satisfied and terribly sick when the commander recoils at your tone. "It is not an easy thing to let go of the hatred one holds for the people who have hurt them."

The ' _I would know'_ goes unsaid, but the stiffening of the commander's shoulders is enough to let you know that she heard you, loud and clear. You didn't think that she would remember you, the one time that your eyes had met from across a village square, but you're beginning to think that maybe you were wrong.

"If you would excuse me," you say, trying to soften your tone and failing, though you don't really care. "I should probably return to my quarters so that I can bathe."

It takes a few moments before the commander tilts her head in acceptance and you don't waste another second before turning away. You touch Luna's arm briefly in a request for her to follow you and you've barely taken a few steps before the commander's voice stops you in your tracks.

"I will send Onya to your room in an hour to bring you to my quarters," she says, her voice soft but with a hint of steel lining the edges of each word. "There is much that I would discuss with you before the summit tonight, Klark of the Ice Nation."

You clench your jaw before you nod your head without turning around. You walk away with Luna at your side, feeling the commander's gaze burn into your back with every step that you take.

It is not until the elevator doors close behind you that Luna finally speaks.

"What did Leksa do to you to earn your animosity, Klark?" She asks in a surprisingly soft voice as the elevator begins to move.

You are quiet for a few minutes, debating your answer and the truthworthiness of your companion before you reply. "She killed the man that I loved."

Luna makes a small sound, not one of pity or surprise, but one of understanding. You don't resist when she reaches out to brush her fingers over the back of your hand.

You had left Luna inside of the elevator, as she was forbidden by Onya's orders to step onto your level, which had amused her to no end. Your admission to her had left you feeling sick and weary and it is with relief that you sink into your bath, warmed by the water that you had left over the fireplace to heat earlier. You are still in the midst of feeling sorry for yourself when you hear the door to your quarters opening, and you don't bother to move as you hear soft footsteps cross the floor of your outer room.

"Klark?"

"In here," you call, listening to the fabric swish as Onya steps into the bathing room, stopping short when she catches sight of you in the tub. "It has not been an hour yet."

"Apologies," she says smoothly, turning her head away from your naked flesh.

"Liar," you chuckle, narrowing your eyes playfully and sinking lower in the water when you catch a glimpse of Onya's smirk. "Is there something that you want?"

"No," Onya says instantly, rolling her eyes when you chuckle. " _Shop of, Klark._ I came to tell you that you fought well today. You have improved much over the years."

"If only I had been this good when I was still facing you on the battlefield," you say, earning a small grin from your companion. "Then maybe I wouldn't have so many scars."

"Doubtful," Onya says, completely deadpan. "But one can dream."

" _Shop of, Onya,_ " you mock her, earning a small shake of Onya's head in response.

"Hurry up," she finally says. "You do not want to keep the commander waiting."

You roll your eyes at her words, but you obidiently stand up from the tub, causing water to drip onto the tiled floor. Onya's head swivels to face you at the sound and one of her eyebrows raise at the sight of your naked body.

"Sure you don't want something?" You ask her slyly, laughing loudly when the other woman simply turns and strides from the room, leaving you to dry your skin and change alone.

You change into a pair of black leather pants and a loose, dark blue shirt, braiding your hair back from your face to expose your sharp jawline and high cheekbones. You don't smear any kohl around your eyes, nor do you don any of your armor, since this doesn't seem to be a formal meeting with the commander, as far as you know. Onya's eyes rake over your form before she gives you an accepting nod, ushering you out into the hallway and towards the elevator shaft.

" _Be careful of what you say,_ " Onya starts speaking in your native tongue as soon as the doors to the elevator have been pushed closed. " _Do not give her any reason to suspect you of disloyalty or dishonesty._ "

" _What are you expecting me to do in there?_ " You ask the older woman incredulously as the elevator begins to move. " _Do you think I'm going to reject the commander's brand and declare war against her and the coalition? I'm not so stupid, Onya._ "

 _"No, you are not,"_ she agrees smoothly. " _But I know that the commander affects you more than most and I want you to keep your wits about you. I know what Leksa is like, I_ trained _her, and I need for you to put your personal feelings aside when you speak to her. I do not wish to send what's left of your body back to your mother, nor do I want the war that would follow._ "

" _The commander wouldn't do that_ ," you answer, unsure of why you say it, but know that it's the truth. " _She built this coalition with her bare hands, after years of negotiations, and she has poured her blood and sweat and life into it. She would not make the mistake of killing me if there was even the slightest chance that the coalition would fall apart because of her actions._ "

There are a few moments of silence before Onya speaks, sounding surprised. " _You_ respect _her._ "

You aren't sure where Onya pulled that information from, whether it was from your words or the tone that you used to deliever them, but you don't deny it.

" _Of course,_ " you answer immediately, and it is the truth. " _The commander is the greatest leader than our people have ever seen. She has united the twelve clans after decades of war and our people have never been more prosperous than they have been in the last two years. She is a visionary, she has given our people peace for the first time since the destruction of the old world and she has proven her strength time and time again since she was chosen by the commander's spirit. I can only hope to be half the leader that she is when the day comes that I must lead my people."_

You watch with a raised eyebrow and a small smile as Onya's body slowly relaxes out of the corner of your eye as you speak.

"Well," she finally says as the elevator comes to a halt. "This should go much better than I had ever dared to hope, then."

You roll your eyes when the door is pulled open, turning to glance back at Onya when she stays inside of the elevator with a small smirk. She gives you a slight wave and grins as the doors are forced closed once more, leaving you standing in front of two large double doors alone.

 _Well, shit,_ you think to yourself, fighting the urge to fidget as you take a few slow steps towards the doors. You raise your hand to knock, but you don't. You simply stand there, as if frozen, considering what waits for you beyond this door.

You are not sure why the commander wishes to speak to you, in private no less, but you can only begin to imagine the absolute _shitstorm_ that you are about to be subjected to, all thanks to your mother and her pride. You are not afraid, exactly, but you are not entirely confident that you are going to leave the room in one piece either. You have never spoken to the commander directly before last night, have only ever seen her once before your arrival in Polis yesterday, but you _have_ heard stories.

You've heard _plenty_ of stories; of the trials she faced to prove her strength as the commander, of the blood she spilled to stop the wars between the clans, of atrocities done to the people who refused to bow to her rule.

You think of what she told your mother when she arrived in Polis to discuss _azgedakru_ joining the commander's coalition, two years ago. The threat that hangs above the heads of your people to this day.

 _'if you will not bow to me, if you will take no part in my coalition, then know this; your warriors will die defending the gates of your city, your people will be slaughtered or taken to the mines in chains, your children will not grow to the see the next spring. if you refuse me, i will leave your head and those of your kin on stakes surrounding your frozen city as a reminder to those who would dare stand against us. the ice nation will be no more.'_

(you feel a cold tendril of fear creep up your spine, curling through your nervous system like poison, same as the first day you heard those words repeated from your mother's mouth.)

You are pulled from your frozen state and your train of thought when the door suddenly opens and a dark skinned woman with beautiful hazel eyes steps out. Her face is an angry mask, though there is more than a hint of sadness and hurt in her eyes, but it fades almost instantly when she runs into you, quite literally.

"Oh!" She says as she crashes into your chest and your eyes widen as she bounces backwards, only just managing to grab her arms in a gentle grip to steady her at the last moment. "I apologise."

"It's my fault," you say automatically, the words slipping from your tongue without thought as Kostia stares up at you with wide, bright eyes. You notice that you are still holding onto her arms and you drop your hands quickly, swallowing as you look away. "Apologies, _Kostia kom trikru._ "

"I accept your apology, _Klark kom azgedakru_ ," she says, though there is a hint of teasing in her light, musical voice. "Though, there is no need to be so formal. It was an accident, was it not?"

"Of course," you say, inclining your head before waving your hand vaguely in the direction of the door. "I should probably.."

"Oh, yes," Kostia laughs lightly, though it sounds somewhat forced to your ears. "She is expecting you."

You nod your head, turning away and rapping your knuckles on the door sharply, with Kostia still standing beside you. It takes a few moments before you hear a reply from the other side and you glance at Kostia, who gives you an encouraging nod, before you push the door open and slip inside.

Your eyes immediately go wide as you take in the room, since when the commander told you that you would be meeting in her quarters, you didn't think that she meant her _bedroom._

 _Well, shit,_ you think for the second time in the space of a few minutes, your eyes taking in the sight of the huge bed on the other side of the room. The room is not so dissimilar to your own, though it is easily double the size, with a small sitting area and an entire wall full of old tomes. You find yourself gravitating towards the books almost immediately and without thought, your greedy eyes flickering over titles that you've never read before, and for a moment, you almost forget where you are.

 _"Klark._ "

Almost.

" _Heda_ ," you say as respectfully as you can manage as you slowly turn around, your blue eyes landing on the figure standing by the window on the other side of the room. She is dressed down, same as you, in a simple pair of pants and a black shirt, and the sight of her like this is almost uncomfortable for you, a part of you flinching away from it instinctively.

Without all of the splendor of her position, the commander looks like just another a young woman, same as you, but with the hidden weight of an entire civilisation resting upon her shoulders.

(a small part of you wonders why she lets you see her like this, wonders whether this is some kind of subtle munipulation, because you can think of no reason as to why she would allow you to see her so seemingly vulnerable, without this being some sort of twisted plan _._ you wonder what her aim is.)

You have made an effort to never truly _look_ at the commander when you see her, keeping your gaze focused on her eyes when you speak to her, or on her hands that always seem to linger by her weapons that she carries on her person. You have noticed things, of course, like the intricate braids in her hair and the red sash that sweeps around her booted feet when she walks, but you have never taken in _everything;_ not the small details, nothing that doesn't have to do with her position and power.

It is some kind of defence mechanism, you think, the way you avoid looking at the woman beneath the mask of the commander, so that you don't have to think of her as anything _human_ ; but you can't help but see her now, when all the armor and signs of her rank are no where to be found.

The commander is taller than you, though not by much, but this is the first time that you've noticed that she is also _small._ She has small, slender hands with long graceful fingers, attatched to arms that are lean and muscled, but still seem too _thin_ to hold the strength you know is hidden inside. Her shoulders are slim and her defined collarbones peek out from beneath the collar of her shirt, leading down to ribs that you can see expand steadily with every breath that she takes. Her waist is _tiny_ , though she widens slightly at the hips, with strong, muscular thighs that are visible beneath the fabric that is practically painted to her skin, it is so tight.

You let your gaze wander up her body slowly, taking in each strangely surprising _feminine_ curve, until your blue eyes are tracing the graceful arch of her long neck. Your eyes wander over the defined edge of her jawline and the cutting edges of her high cheekbones, over full pink lips that are pursed in a small pout and across the bridge of her straight nose. You meet her eyes last, the forest green eyes that have been burned into the back of your eyelids for the last two years, eyes that you know all too well.

(a horrible, mortifying thought comes to your head then, as you look into those eyes. this is the first time you've allowed yourself to look at the commander, and so it is the first time that you realise that the commander is _beautiful._ and not only that, but you find yourself _attracted to her._ )

(you shove that thought down into the darkest, deepest pit of your deranged mind, unwilling to study it any further, at least not until long after you've passed on into your next life.)

(that small part of you is wondering if _this_ was her plan, to make you realise the fact that you think she is _pretty,_ so that you would torture yourself with that knowledge _forever. bitch._ )

While you have been staring at her, you have noticed that the other woman is studying you similiarly in return and she tilts her head slightly when her green eyes finally meet yours.

"You are not what I expected," she says into the quiet of the room, causing you to raise your eyebrows in curiousity and surprise, all of your previous thoughts forgotten (for now). Out of all of the things that you expected her to say, all of the reprimands and angry words that you thought would slip from your lips, this was not something that you thought you would ever hear from the commander of the twelve clans.

You thought that you had been called here to talk about your mother's lack of appearance, or to even address the obvious lack of respect that you had shown the other woman since your arrival in the capitol. You did not think that the commander asked you here to talk about _you._

"You are the second person to tell me that today," you reply without thought, as you are known to do when you find yourself in such a strong state of shock. "Though, I suspect that you were not expecting a she demon from the depths of hell."

A tiny smirk tugs at the corner of the commander's lips, surprising you and you think, surprising her, if how quickly it disappears is any indication. "Luna has always put too much faith in legends, where I have not."

"What were you expecting then, if not what stands before you?" You ask, finding yourself more curious than you expect for her answer. Your brows furrows slightly when the commander shrugs her shoulders lightly in response, letting her eyes drag once more over your body.

"I am not sure," she finally says, before waving a hand towards you. "But it was not _this_."

You stiffen slightly at the underlying tone to her voice and a few pieces of the puzzle click together. "You expected me to be more like Nia, then? You expected me to be harsh and cold, with a neverending thirst for blood? You have met my mother, commander, _azgeda_ are not all the same. We do not all wish to bathe in the blood of our enemies."

"If I thought that were true, I would not have called you to my private quarters without a guard," the commander says easily, causing your spine to stiffen at the meaning behind her words. You clench your jaw and lace your hands behind your back, squeezing until you think your fingers might break.

"Why _did_ you call me here?" You ask, finally, when it becomes obvious that the commander will say no more on the subject without prompting. "If not to try and figure me out, that is."

"You are mistaken, Klark," the commander responds easily, her eyes never leaving yours, even as she swaggers towards the couch and sits down, crossing one leg over the other with a casual grace. "That is _exactly_ why I asked you here."

 _What?_

You clench your jaw so hard you fear your teeth will shatter. "What do you want to know?"

The commander is silent, contemplative as she stares at you, tapping her fingers on the arm of the couch. You feel the urge to fidget beneath her intense gaze as she blatantly stares at you, but you resist the nervous compulsion as you glare back at her evenly.

"What are your thoughts on the Mountain?"

You brain stutters before shuddering abruptly to a halt.

 _That_ is the most unexpected question that has been asked of you in a long, long time.

You feel as if you've been punched in the gut, followed by an old phantom pain in your chest, squeezing and squeezing until you feel as if you cannot breathe. You take several staggering steps forward without thinking and slowly lower yourself into the seat across from the commander, without permission.

The commander is studying you with green eyes gone dark, and you try not to let any of your inner turmoil show, but thoughts of the Mountain make such a thing almost impossible.

"I believe," you say slowly, looking up to gaze back at the commander's stoic expression, hoping that you have managed to keep a similiar semblence of control over your own face. "That you already know my thoughts on the Mountain."

And it's true, if the tone of voice the commander had used when she asked the question was anything to go by. She asked as if she didn't need an answer, simply wanted to have her knowledge confirmed.

You close your eyes, thinking of a field of yellow flowers; the sound of your own muffled screaming ringing in your ears.

Your father. Your _father._

"I intend to bring it down."

Your eyes snap open and your blue orbs focus intensely upon green.

"What?" You rasp, feeling breathless at the admission. The commander studies you intensely before leaning forward in her seat, her expression becoming surprisingly open as she rests her forearms on her knees until there is hardly any space between you. There is determination there and passion swirling in the endless depths of her eyes, as well as a spark of excitement.

"I want to bring down the Mountain Men," she repeats firmly. "I plan to call upon the armies of the twelve clans tonight and ask them to join me in a march on the Mountain _._ "

Your mouth is gaping open at the pure audacity of this woman's words, but you feel a thrill of excitement shoot down your spine at the determination in those forest green eyes. "Why are you telling me this now? Why not just wait until tonight at the summit?"

"Because," the commander begins before pausing, her eyes flickering over your face. She seems to be searching for something, though you are unsure of what, but you believe she finds it, because she continues without a moments more hesitation. "Because, I need your help, Klark."


	5. Chapter 5

"You _what?_ " You ask incredulously, standing up from your seat suddenly and beginning to pace before the commander. Your head is spinning and you feel as though you might be sick from what the commander has just asked of you. "Do you have _any_ idea what you're asking of me?"

"I am completely aware of the position that I am putting you in, Klark," the commander assures you calmly, leaning back in her seat as her green eyes follow you from one side of the room to the other and back again. "I would not ask this of you if I had any other choice."

You scoff at her words, spinning around to face her. You are trying to keep control of your emotions, but it is _hard._ "No other choice? You are asking me to go against my queen- to practically commit _treason-_ and you believe that I will just be okay with that?"

"Think about your people, Kl-" the commander begins to say earnestly, only for you to cut her off harshly.

"Don't," you snarl, taking a threatening step towards her and feeling satifaction when the commander leans back further in her seat. "I would do anything for my people. I have given my blood and my life for them, but this- this..."

"I know," the commander soothes, slowly rising from her seat and holding her hands out placatingly. "I know that it is a lot to ask, even as your _heda,_ I know this. But if I have any hope of the twelve clans agreeing to this plan, then I need for you to do this. Indra has already offered me her army, but it will not be enough to take down the Mountain. Some clans may join us, simply because their _heda_ asks it of them, but there are others who will not take the risk without being assured of our chances at victory. That is why I need you, Klark."

" _What?_ " You hiss in disbelief, throwing up your hands, because absolutely _none_ of this makes any sense. "You think that if I back this, that the other clans will just fall into line? Are you _insane_?"

"My mind is completely sound," the commander answers calmly, her green eyes boring into yours. "Do not underestimate yourself, Klark. There is no one in this city that has not heard of you, who has not heard of your victories against the other clans. My people call you _Wanheda_ for a reason and it is she who I need for this plan to work; it is she whom I need to kneel before me at the summit. If the other clan leaders believe that you will lead _azgeda_ into battle against the Mountain Men, then they will not hesitate to follow."

"That is not- that is beside the point," you finally say frustratedly. "My people will not agree to this. My _Kwin-_ "

"I do not ask this of your mother," the commander replies, waving her hand dismissively. "It is not your _Kwin_ who leads your people into battle, it is _you._ It has been you since you were fifteen. Your people will follow you, _Klark,_ if you ask them to. They are loyal to _you,_ they fight for _you_ and they would follow you to their death if you asked it of them. You may not like it, Klark, but you were born for this, same as me."

"I did not know that _heda_ was aware of who I was for all these years," you say with a hint of bitterness, earning nothing but a raised eyebrow in return.

"When my warriors bring me stories of a sixteen year old girl who has the power of the _Mounon_ to explode an entire abandoned village, I listen," the commander says, almost angrily. "When I hear a tale of that same girl saving her city from a two headed snow leopard with only a dagger and her bare hands, I listen. When I hear of a girl who fought off three hundred of my people with only a party of fifty warriors, I listen. When I hear of a girl who has earnt the respect of one of my most trusted generals, I listen, and I do not forget."

You feel frozen at her words, a shiver racing down your spine as you briefly look away and the words that slip from your lips next, you don't expect.

"Did you know who I was," you ask slowly, pausing briefly to lick your lips. "Did you know who I was in that village, two years ago?"

Nothing but silence follows your question and it is an effort to turn your head to catch the commander's gaze when it continues to drag. You are surprised to see that her entire expression has softened and you wonder briefly if your mind is playing tricks on you.

"I knew," she finally says, her voice unexpectedly soft. Your chest aches horribly at the words, as if your ribs are collapsing around your lungs, crushing the air from your chest. "I knew who you were and I knew what the consequences would be. I only hoped that you would be able to understand that it was nothing personal. It is just our way."

" _Jus drein jus daun_ ," you say bitterly, earning a nod from the commander. Your eyes are cold when you meet the commander's gaze next and you feel a thrill at the way her eyes widen slightly in response.

"What would your answer be, if the situation was reversed?" You finally ask, noting the confusion in the commander's eyes which slowly morphs into understanding as you continue to speak. "What would you do if I asked these things of you, if it had been me who had ended _Kostia's_ life? If you had watched the light fade from her eyes on the end of my blade? What would you do?"

The commander's face softens further, her fingers twitching at her side as she swallows. Her expression is one of such painful understanding and you think that is what hurts more than anything.

"If we are as similiar as I believe us to be," the commander says, briefly pausing to lick her lips. "Then I believe you already know the answer, Klark."

Onya was not waiting for you when you left the commander's quarters and for that, you were infinetly grateful.

You had left shortly after your conversation with the commander, telling her that she would know your answer tonight at the summit, for which she had only replied with a slight incline of her head. Now, you sat in your room, staring out of the window at the slowly sinking sun in the sky, thinking about everything that the commander had said and all that she had asked of you.

' _She may be young, but she is smart and cunning and she will try to munipulate you into getting what she wants, if she thinks that she can.'_ Your mother's words ring in your head, over and over. ' _She is not to be trusted._ '

 _She is not to be trusted._

You think of Fin, of the guilt and heartbreak on his face because of what he had done, when he saw you before his execution. You think of his sad brown eyes as you held him against you, one last time, before they took him away, of the words that he whispered in your ear. _'i don't think i want to live through this, after what i've done.'_

You think of your father, as he was dragged away by the Mountain Men, while your mother covered your mouth as she hid with you behind a tree. You think of the way you screamed and screamed and never made a sound.

You think of the commander's blade, slipping into Fin's chest, of the bloodthirsty screams of ' _jus drein jus daun'_ as his blood soaked the earth. You think of those green eyes, searching the crowd until they met yours, even as she pushed deeper and deeper, ending the life of the one you loved.

You think of the Mountain, taking people from your territory and turning them into monsters. You think of the Mountain, with their guns and missiles. You hear yourself screaming your father's name, silently, while your mother did nothing as he was taken from you.

You think of the commander's determined gaze, telling you that she planned to rip the Mountain apart.

 _She is not to be trusted._

Your bedroom door opens, but you don't turn around as you hear two pairs of footsteps cross the room towards you. You stare down at the city of Polis, as the dying sun paints the city in red and orange.

" _It is almost time for the summit, prisa,_ " Belomi says.

You nod at the information, feeling your stomach twist and turn. You take a deep breath and try to keep your voice steady when you speak. " _No matter what happens tonight, I need for both of you to trust me. No matter what I do or what I say, I need you both to back me without hesitation, and if worse comes to worst, I need for you both to be ready to run. This summit- if something goes wrong, I want our people out of here at the first sign of trouble, okay? Just- please, promise me this. Promise me that you'll do whatever I tell you to do."_

Silence follows your words for several long moments and you can feel the confusion and concern radiating from your companions before Raven finally speaks.

" _Of course, Klark,_ " she says softly, reaching out to lay her hand upon your shoulder. " _You know that we would do anything you asked of us. We'll follow you anywhere._ "

" _Even if it means running?"_ You can't help but ask, feeling your lips tremble around the words.

" _Yes,_ " Raven answers firmly, stepping closer to you, so close that you can feel the heat of her skin against your back. It is more comforting than any words. " _Even if it means running, Klark. I will go where you go, I will run where you run. Always."_

You nod your head, even as you reach up to cover Raven's hand with your own and squeeze. Your eyes are welling with tears and you aren't sure why, because this was the answer that you wanted.

Wasn't it?

The ride up to the top floor of the commander's tower is deathly silent and your armor feels uncomfortably tight around your chest. Your shoulders feel as though you hold the entire weight of your people upon them and you tremble underneath the heaviness of the burden as if you are about to crumble at any moment.

You flinch when the elevator comes to a sudden stop, forcing your spine to straighten as the doors are pulled open with a groan, revealing two grand double doors that are intricately carved and guarded by two warriors of Polis. You take a deep breath when you step out of the elevator, with Raven and Belomi at your heels, and you give a firm nod to the guards outside the doors when they glance at you inquistively. They push the doors open slowly and you stride into the room with your head held high, radiating as much power and confidence as you can manage.

The room is large and full of people, with guards lining the walls and the leader's of the twelve clans all packed before the dais upon where the commander's hand carved seat of power resides. On one side of the throne stands Onya, who eyes you curiously as you enter the room, and on the other side stands Gustos, who refuses to even look at you. On a platform to Onya's right, stands two more people; one you know to be _Titus, flamekeeper,_ trainer of nightbloods and the commander's trusted advisor. The other is Kostia, who stares out of the window with a conflicted expression, one that makes you wonder where she stands on the commander's plan.

You walk across the room, after a few moments of consideration, to the empty spot where you have chosen to stand; the furthest away from the commander's throne. You try to ignore the eyes that watch you as you take your place and stare forward with an impassive expression. Luna stands across the room, glancing at you thoughtfully, with a hint of curiousity, while Onya blantently stares at you from her spot by the commander's throne, her amber coloured eyes swimming with frustration and confusion. You ignore them both, clasping your hands behind your back as you stare blankly ahead, waiting.

The room is quiet but for a few murmurs of whispered conversation, until the doors swing open to admit the woman that has asked you all here and then it is _silent_. The commander is dressed in full battle armor, with her blood red sash sweeping along the floor behind her as she strides confidently to her throne. Her green eyes glance around the room as she walks, and when they pause on you for one heavy moment, you find yourself holding your breath, until she turns away from you to take the steps that lead up to the dais and you allow yourself to slowly exhale. She turns to face her disciples, standing before her seat of power proudly, and one by one, the leaders of each kru fall to their knees.

It's not hard for you to follow them, as it feels as if the bones in your legs have suddenly disappeared.

"Rise." The commander's voice calls, though she does not sit down in her seat as expected. It is an effort to push yourself back to your feet and you are forced to lock your knees in place, lest they give out underneath you at the knowledge of what's to come.

You gaze up at the commander, almost awestruck at the way she commands the attention of every person in the room so effortlessly. You watch the way her ribs expand as she takes a deep breath, before slowly releasing it and beginning to speak.

"I have called each of you here, away from your people and your homes, for no small reason," she begins, her voice low and strong as she speaks each and every word deliberately, her eyes scanning across the room and meeting each and every eye. "Tonight, I call upon all of you and your clans to help me end a threat to our people that has lasted for more than fifty years. Tonight, I call upon the twelve armies of the coalition, to join me in battle against our enemy."

The room is deathly silent, save for the commander's voice, and out of the corner of your eye, you watch as confusion and then slowly understanding ripples across the faces that surround you. Understanding quickly morphs into barely concealed fear and the smell of it permeates the room like a sickness, spreading fast.

"Tonight, I ask the twelve armies to follow me to _war_ ," the commander says, her eyes determined, shining in the torch light. "Against the Mountain."

The shudder that passes through the room is so strong that you can feel it in your very bones. You hear several gasps of shock, and one man even stumbles at the commander's words before he is quickly righted by his companions. You feel Raven's trembling hand brush against your back beneath your armor and you take a deep breath in an effort to calm the fear that is spreading through your body. Your muscles are trembling and your knees shake and your terror is a living thing, clawing at your chest.

It's not just the Mountain that you fear, it is everything that would come from marching against them. It is what you would lose if you were to fail such an endevour; which would be _everything._

Your shoulders feel especially heavy as you consider what desicion you will make, knowing that there is no guaruntee for your peoples safety or survival, no matter what you decide.

"Who will stand with me?" The commander asks, her voice deceptively soft as she glances around the room. "Who will fight and help me end this terror that has plagued our people for too long?"

Barely a second passes after the commander's words before _Indra kom trikru_ predictablly steps forward, dropping to one knee before the commander, who gazes down at the dark skinned woman with appreciation.

" _Trikru_ will fight for you, _heda_ ," she says, bowing her head in respect. "My people are yours to command."

The commander tilts her head in acknowledgement, before lifting her gaze to glance around the otherwise silent room. You watch as the other leaders shuffle their feet and glance between each other, waiting for someone else to step forward; but they _don't._ They stare at the ground and avoid the commander's gaze like disobidient children and you look up briefly to see the commander's lips twitch in heavy disappointment in response.

And then footsteps are echoing across the stone floor, without hesitation, the loud sound piercing your ears with every step, until you stop to stand beside Indra's still kneeling form. You look up at the commander and catch her wide eyes staring back at you, as if despite everything, she had not thought that this would ever happen. You cannot blame her, since your entire body is shaking with the shock of your own actions, at the weight of what you have done by crossing the floor without thinking to stand before the commander's dais. There is no small amount of surprise in her green eyes as you slowly lower yourself to one knee, but it is almost overwhelmed by sincere gratitude as you break your gaze to lower your head.

" _Azgedakru_ will fight for you, _heda,_ " you say, trying to keep your voice steady and ignoring the shocked gasps that echo throughout the room at your words. "My people are yours to command."

The silence that follows your words is heavy, but it does not last long before footsteps cross the room to stop by your side, and you turn your head slightly to catch a glimpse of Luna's face as she kneels before the commander's dais, bowing her head.

" _Floudonkru_ will fight for you, _heda,_ " she says softly. "My people are yours to command."

And then, like sheep to the slaughter, the rest of the leaders follow, kneeling before their _heda_ and pledging their people to her cause.

The summit is over once the last leader has fallen to his knees, pledging his allegiance to his _heda_. The commander dismisses everyone shortly after, but not before requesting for you all to return tomorrow evening so that first preparations for war can begin.

You regain your feet shakily and turn away from the commander before she can catch your gaze, striding from the room after gesturing for your companions to follow you, while the other leaders stay behind to talk. You push open the doors to the throne room with trembling hands and walk hurriedly down the corridor, hearing your friends rush and stumble to keep up with you as you step into the elevator.

The elevator doors are halfway closed when the double doors to the commander's throne room are thrown open once more and the commander herself strides out.

" _Klark!"_ she calls, raising her hand, causing the two guards to stop closing the doors and for you to groan inaudibly. She crosses the distance between you, standing just outside the half closed doors of the elevator as she meets your eyes. She opens her mouth as if to say something, before snapping it shut again and simply inclining her head.

You stare back at her for several long moments, before you nod your head in return and then the doors are closing and she disappears from view.

There is silence in the elevator for several long, tense moments as it begins to move, before Raven breaks it with a string of obscene curses.

" _Your mother is going to kill us_ ," she finally says once she's finished and all you can do is sigh.

" _This is insane,_ " Belomi is saying as he paces the floor of your quarters, rapidly, causing enough friction to probably start a fire. " _This is absolutely, utterly, the most crazy thing that you have ever done._ "

" _I don't know, Bel,_ " Raven says from where she lays upon your bed. " _You weren't there that time that Klark thought that it would be a good idea to enter one of the trikru villages near the border and steal all of their clothes._ "

You couldn't help but smirk as Belomi stumbled over absolutely nothing but his own two feet. " _You did_ what?"

" _We were fourteen and stupid_ ," you say, waving your hand dismissively. " _Plus, it was_ hilarious _and we didn't even get caught._ "

" _No, but we were chased almost all the way into Ouskejonkru territory by a group of naked warriors,_ " Raven muses, putting her hands behind her head. " _It was a good day._ "

You both gaze into the distance with nostaglic smiles for the reckless, stupid idiots that you had both been when you were young. Belomi ruins the moment, as he always does, with his logic and concern.

" _You are not fourteen years old anymore, Klark, and this is going to have consequences,_ " he says, his tone a mixture of frustration and worry. " _You offered up your people without your mother's approval, for a war that your mother will want no part of._ "

" _I thought that you'd be happy about this,_ " you say, with no small amount of frustration. " _You were trikru once, Belomi, and if anyone hates the Mountain more than azgeda, it's trikru. And the commander is right, we have let this go on for too long already, I will not lose anyone else to the Mountain._ "

Belomi pauses in his pacing, running his fingers through his shaggy hair as he sighs, before turning to look at you with a conflicted expression. " _This has nothing to do with that, Klark. I hate the Mountain Men as much as you, and I_ will _follow you to war if you ask it of me. I only fear for how your mother will react._ "

" _Don't worry about that_ ," you say soothingly, tapping your fingers against the letter that you had been writing as you explained everything to your companions when you first entered your room after the summit. " _I have it all under control, trust me._ "

Belomi doesn't look convinced, but he shrugs his shoulders and falls onto the bed beside Raven, putting his trust in you as he always does.

You vow not to let him down.

 _My Kwin,_

 _The reason for the summit has been revealed; the commander calls upon the twelve armies of the coalition to go to war against the Mountain._

 _I have done as I know father would have in my place, and I have offered up our people's army for the commander's use in the fight against the Mountain._

 _I will not have our people hide any longer from our enemy._ I _will hide no longer._

 _I know this is not what you wish, for our people to go to war once more, and I know that you do not wish for me to lead them, but I have to. No matter what choice you make, I will follow the commander to war, with or without your permission, though I hope that I will ride towards the Mountain's door with your blessing and our people at my back._

 _Send our army to Polis, mother, if not for the commander or for me, then for father._

 _He gave his life for us once, lets not have his sacrifice be in vain._

 _Klark_

You had sent the fastest horse with the message to your mother, and the reply comes two weeks later, in your mother's neat handwriting.

 _Klark,_

 _By the time you recieve this letter, our army will be marching to the capitol to join you._

 _I only hope that you remember what I told you before you left and that you heed my warning. If I lose you to the commander's folly, not even the Mountain will keep me from exacting my revenge._

 _For both our sakes, I hope that I am wrong about the commander and that your belief in her is not misplaced._

 _Come back to me._

 _Queen Abbi of the Ice Nation_


	6. Chapter 6

You sleep very little the night of the summit and you wake up at dawn feeling sluggish and emotionally exhausted.

You follow your early morning routine, dressing in light clothing before picking up your twin swords and wandering out into the corridor. You are grateful to find that Belomi is already waiting outside your door, giving you a short nod as you both step into the elevator. You are glad for the silence on the trip down, glad that Belomi is not one to ask questions, simply allowing for you to lean into the comforting warmth of his body as the elevator makes it's slow descent to the ground. He is a good friend, better than you deserve, though you will selfishly keep him without guilt for as long as you are able.

The elevator comes to a rumbling stop and you step out of it slowly, taking unhurried steps through the twisting corridors of the commander's tower until you find yourself outside. The sky is still dark above you, but the stretch of midnight blue is clear, promising a beautiful day to come and you welcome the thought eagerly. Despite having grown up in the ice and snow, you look forward to feeling the sun on your skin as you spend the day wandering through the streets of Polis this afternoon as you have planned.

You walk side by side with Belomi to the training ground, jumping nimbly over the fence and taking a deep breath before lifting your swords. You begin your warm up with Belomi standing a few paces away, following your movements easily, and you feel better as you feel your muscles stretch and your blood begin to pump harder in your veins.

" _Slow?_ " Belomi questions softly as you turn to face each other, recieving a short nod in response and he smiles with understanding as he brings his sword down in an arc to clash lightly against your blades.

It's more of a dance than a fight, the way you move slowly around each other, parrying and deflecting blows from each other's weapons. It allows the slow sparring match to last for much longer than usual and it leaves you both without errant cuts or bruises, only a light sheen of sweat covering your skin as your feet glide across the dirt floor.

The sun has begun to rise by the time you finish and you stand in the middle of the training ground and allow yourself a few blissful moments of the sun against your back, warmth sinking into your muscles and loosening them further.

" _Do you feel better?_ " Belomi asks you from where he has seated himself on the ground, tilting his face towards the sun.

" _Yes_ ," you reply easily, turning around to sit down beside him. The sunlight dances across your skin and you let an easy smile spread across your face at the feeling. It's a peaceful start to what you can only hope will be a peaceful day.

You sit there in silence until a few warriors arrive with their seconds, cutting your sunbathing short as you pick up your weapons and depart from the training ground. You feel much lighter when you leave than when you arrived, and the warmth of the sun lingers beneath your skin all the way back to your room.

A knock sounds at your door sometime around midmorning and you stand curiously from your seat by the window, running your fingers through your still wet hair as you go to answer it. The guard from the corridor stands outside your room, looking both annoyed and almost nervous as he regards you silently.

"Yes?" You ask him politely, leaning against the door frame as you stare back at him. "Is there something that I can do for you?"

"No," he answers gruffly with a short glare before pointing over his shoulder. " _Luna kom floukru_ waits for you in the elevator."

You raise your eyebrow, glancing out into the hallway to find Luna's head grinning back at you, the only part of her body that you can see. Her arm appears to give you a short wave before disappearing back inside the elevator and you grin and shake your head as you step out more fully into the corridor, closing your door behind you.

" _Mochof_ ," you say to the guard as you walk past him, slipping into the elevator beside Luna and regarding her with a smile as the doors are forced closed behind you.

"Good morning, Klark," she says pleasantly as the elevator begins to move downwards. "I thought that today I could show you Polis, as I promised, since our plans were so rudely interrupted by the commander yesterday."

You pretend to consider the offer for several moments before you flash the raven haired woman your biggest grin.

"I find that plan highly acceptable," you reply as the elevator comes to a stop at the ground floor. Luna's eyes are sparkling as she meets your gaze and you return her smile when she offers you her arm.

"I thought you might," she says as she leads you out of the elevator, with your fingers wrapped gently around her biscep. "And I know _just_ the places to show you."

It seems as if you are not as mysterious as you thought, since Luna does seem to know _exactly_ all of things that you would want to see in Polis.

She takes you to the Polis library first, where thousands of books and scrolls line the walls, some from the old world, while others have been written out by scribes, copying words and translating books that are now either lost or that are too valuable to be kept in such a public place. You are in awe as you search shelf after shelf, with Luna following behind you with a knowing smile as you open each new book to read a few pages before placing it carefully back where it belongs.

You could stay there for days, but it is only a few hours before Luna gently pulls you away, assuring you that there will be plenty of time to read your fill before the twelve armies of the coalition must leave for war.

Next, she takes you to the markets, which is a more obvious choice, though Luna seems to know exactly which stalls that you will enjoy most. She brings you first to a stall that belongs to an old woman with a kind smile and your eyes light up at the stacks upons stacks of parchment and canvas behind the counter. The counter itself holds hundreds of small pots, with a wide variety of coloured paints and pastles for drawing and painting and you grin when Luna dips her finger into a pot of blue paint, the colour of the sky on a clear day, holding it up to compare it to the shade of your eyes before nodding in approval.

It is long past midday when you finally leave the markets and you hold several wrapped packages beneath your arm with the items that you traded and bartered for held within. Luna holds even more than you, and you laugh away her offer to hold your purchases as well when the dark haired woman almost stumbles beneath the weight of her shopping spree.

You _aren't_ surprised at where Luna brings you last and you can only laugh as you drop your packages on one of the barrels that make up the tables of the outdoor tavern.

"I know the owner of this establishment," Luna says with a wicked grin that you find yourself matching with much more ease than you are accustomed to. Luna is barely more than a stranger, but you feel as if you have known her for years. "I supply him with wine from my city across the sea. I think that it is about time that you try it."

And try it you do, as one cup turns to two, and two turns to four in short order.

Before you know it, it is late into the afternoon and you have spent most of the day laughing, more than you have laughed in the last few months combined. A few of the tavern's patrons have joined your table throughout the day, and at one point in the afternoon, Raven wanders down from the tower with a few of your _kru_ to join you as well. You have pushed several of the barrel tables together to accomodate all of your new arrivals, and you find yourself sitting between Luna and Raven as you listen to a man from the _sangedakru_ regale you with tales that are somewhat _bawdy_ in nature. It is the most fun that you've had in a long time and you feel no urge to move away when Luna rests her arm casually over the back of your chair, her fingers brushing lightly against your bare shoulder.

This is how Onya finds you, of course. And she is not alone.

Your companions turn quiet almost immediately when two shadows fall across the table, blocking the afternoon sunlight, and you feel the urge to sink in your seat at the fiery gaze that is fixed on you.

"Klark," the commander says as she stares at you, her face impassive if not for the small tick in her jaw and the burning anger in her green eyes. "I have been searching for you for some time."

You avoid Onya's furious glare from over the commander's shoulder and you fight the compulsive urge to swallow as you return the other woman's gaze. "I apologise, _heda,_ I was unaware that you had need of me. Luna has spent the day showing me around your city, to help me become better aquainted with Polis and it's people."

One pair of light amber eyes and one pair of bright green focus on the woman at your side immediately and you send a silent apology to your new friend as both pairs of eyes narrow almost simultaneously at the _floukru_ leader. The glares only become harsher when they take in the arm that is still resting across the back of your seat, thumb brushing soothingly over the skin of your shoulder.

"I see," the commander murmurs quietly before returning her gaze to you, those green eyes hardening slightly. "If you are done here, I would appreciate it if you would return with me to the tower, so that I may discuss certain matters with you in private before the meeting tonight."

There is no question that you _are_ done here, unless you plan on staying without your head, if the look in the commander's eyes is any indication of what would happen if you chose to decline her request. You nod your head, which is thankfully still intact, and stand slowly from your seat, though the commander does not wait for you and simply turns on her heel before she begins to walk away with rapid steps.

"I will see you later," you say to both your _kru_ and to Luna, ignoring Onya's heavy glare from where she still stands by the table. Raven nods her head in response, staring down into her cup of wine, while Luna is daring enough to rub the backs of her knuckles against your thigh, as Onya burns holes into said hand with her eyes.

You turn away from the table and begin to follow after the commander, who has already disappeared from sight, though you walk at a much slower pace. You are forced to quicken your shuffle to a fast walk when Onya steps up beside you, pressing her hand firmly against the small of your back and practically pushing you forward.

" _I told you,_ " Onya is whispering heatedly as she practically drags you through the streets of Polis. " _I told you that spending your time with Luna would get you into trouble._ "

You fight the urge to throw your hands up into the air and simply roll your eyes instead. " _How was I supposed to know that the commander was looking for me? I have given her what she wants, I thought that she would be done with me now._ "

Onya is silent for several moments and you are surprised when she suddenly pulls you to a stop outside of the tower, away from the prying ears of the warriors who guard it. " _I do not know what you have to said to her, nor do I know what the commander has discussed with you, but what I do know is that what ever you have done, it was enough to earn the commander's respect. Such a thing does not come easily and you would do well to keep trying to earn it, for I do not wish to know what may happen to you if that respect was to suddenly disappear by some foolish action of yours._ "

" _Foolish action?_ " You manage to splutter indignantly. " _I haven't done_ anything. _"_

" _Haven't you?_ " Onya practically hisses, stepping so close to you that your noses are almost brushing and you can feel her warm breath upon your face. " _I was not the only one surprised when you took to your knee before the commander at the summit last night. I do not know if such a thing was planned or if you acted upon impulse, but for whatever reason, you have captured the commander's attention, and the attention of half of Polis because of it._ "

You open your mouth to snap back, but you close it just as suddenly when you realise something very important.

The commander had not told Onya, her most trusted general, of what she asked of you last night before at the summit. Onya knows nothing of your coversation and you find that knowledge almost as overwhelming as it is confusing.

" _I will not stop spending time with Luna,_ " you say, ignoring the harsh look that Onya gives you in response. " _But I will_ try _and be more aware and available when the commander has need of me._ _I'll leave a note on my door or something with my whereabouts next time, okay?_ "

Onya simply shakes her head with a heavy sigh before pushing you onwards towards the tower without following.

When you enter the tower, you are surprised to find the commander waiting for you, standing outside of the elevator shaft with her arms crossed over her chest. Her eyes are dark and swirling with emotion and the muscles in her jaw are jumping as she clenches her teeth together.

"Apologies for the delay," you say when you meet her gaze. "The general wished to discuss something with me."

The commander merely grunts as she steps into the elevator, waiting for you to follow before she speaks to the guard outside in clipped _trigedesleng_ and the doors are forced closed. You are both silent as the elevator begins to move upwards, and the commander does not look at you when she finally deigns to speak.

"I do not appreciate being made a fool of, Klark," she says in a dangerously quiet voice that sends chills down your spine. You clench your jaw at the words before forcing your muscles to relax when you reply.

"That was not my intention," you say honestly, because it's the goddamn truth, before your tone becomes slightly more bitter, if not a little petulant. "Though, you did not _tell me_ that you wished to talk to me before the meeting tonight. Am I expected to wait inside my room every day until you deign to call upon me? Is there some secret messaging system that I am unaware of, that lets you know when the commander requests your immediate prescence?"

The commander doesn't speak for a few moments, but her voice is slightly lighter when she does. "Mockery is not the product of a strong mind, Klark."

"I am not mocking you," you say, though it is not entirely true. "I am simply pointing out some flaws in your reasoning. I was unaware that you were looking for me, therefore you cannot be mad that I was not where you expected to find me."

The commander taps her fingers against her arm before she finally inclines her head. "If next time I tell you in advance that I plan to call upon you to meet..."

"I will make sure that I am available," you answer, crossing your own arms over your chest.

"Very well," the commander murmurs and you spend the rest of the elevator ride in silence.

You cannot help but feel as if you have just won a very hard fought and important battle.

You are surprised when you are once again brought to the commander's quarters, rather than the throne room, though you are not sure why you bother to be surprised at all. The commander is anything but predictable, you are beginning to find out.

You stand by the door with your hands clasped behind your back as you watch the commander walk further into the room. You know that she is aware of your gaze, if the slight stiffening of her spine is any indication, but you aren't worried about making her uncomfortable. You watch as she pours a glass of water from the pitcher on her table before she takes a seat on the couch, crossing one leg over the other in much the same way as she had the last time you had been here.

"You know," you begin nochalantly, unwilling to move from your place by the door when the commander is watching you with such a strange look in her eyes. "If you keep bringing me in here, people are bound to get suspicious. They will think that we are plotting something."

 _Or that we are having an affair,_ you say to yourself silently, unwilling to voice such a thing out loud. The commander doesn't seem to be big on humor and you do not wish to loose your tongue.

The commander seems completely unconcerned by your observation as she merely shrugs her shoulders. "Let them think what they will. I have no current plots in mind, though that may not always be so."

"Don't you?" You ask her with feigned surprise. "I would not be surprised, as I was part of one of said plots yesterday evening. You know, the one where you munipulated _me_ into munipulating _everyone else_ to join your cause."

"I did not munipulate you, Klark," she says lightly, tapping her finger on the side of her glass as she stares back at you. "I merely gave you a choice, between what was right and what would have been easy."

You scoff, loudly. "Spare me your philisophical _skrish, beja._ "

"If it is any consolation, I believe you made the right choice," the commander says, once more with that desceptively soft tone. "I know it was not an easy one for you to make."

"Again, _don't,_ " you say, holding up your hands, causing the commander to raise an eyebrow. "If you know anything about me, truly, you will know that I do not like to be used. I have been munipulated enough in my lifetime and I grow weary of such political games. If you would ask something of me, then ask it, and I will try my best to give you what you seek if it is within my power to do so, though I will not do so blindly. If what you ask of me is too much or if I believe that you are being dishonest with me, then these _meetings_ between us will be no longer. If you believe that I am just a piece in this game that you are playing, to use as you please, then I would advise you to think again. At the first sign that I find that you have lied to me or used me in a way that I did not agree to, you will wish that you had never done so. I swore myself and my people to your war because I believe that it was the right thing to do and because I believe that we _can_ win, but I will not lie and say that I was not influenced at all by your words to me beforehand. Beneath your request that I take a knee, so that the other clans would follow my lead, there was a subtle threat unvoiced of what would happen if I didn't, and I will not allow for you to use my desire to protect my people against me again. I will _not_ be played, _heda_ or no, and I will not put my people at risk by allowing you to munipulate me any longer. Do you understand?"

You feel somewhat breathless after your short speech, and more than a tiny bit scared at your own audacity while talking to the goddamn _commander_ of the twelve clans. You hide all this behind your stoic mask, simply gazing at the commander with an almost bored expression as she contemplates you in silence.

You feel as if your legs will collapse beneath you when a tiny smile pulls at the corner of the commander's mouth.

"I understand now why _Onya_ respects you so much," the commanders says, taking a sip of her water before placing the glass upon the table. "I am pleased to find that your heart shows no signs of weakness, despite what I previously thought, and I am glad to find that we are on the same page, as they used to say in the old world."

"Oh?" You say a little breathlessly, as your muscles turn to liquid with relief. "And what page is this, may I ask?"

"You have proven to me that you are willing to do anything for your people," the commander says, leaning back in her seat as she regards you with a serious expression. "And you are willing to do what it takes to win this war. You will fight for what you believe is right and you will not allow yourself to be swayed by those who tell you that it _cannot be done._ To be honest, this is what I have been hoping for. Someone else with the same ideals as me, someone who believes that this war is based on more than just _hope._ "

You take pause, letting her words sink into your brain as you try to figure out the meaning and tone behind them. It does not take you long. "Your advisors believe this war to be folly."

The commander says nothing, merely inclines her head in agreement as her expression hardens almost impercetibly.

You bite your lip before you speak once more, and for some reason, the answer to your next question is important to you. "And Kostia?"

It is brief, so very, very brief, the way the commander's facade crumbles into despair before her expression smooths out once more into indifference. You know the answer before the commander speaks and the despondency in her tone actually _hurts,_ though you are unsure as to why.

"The same," she says, almost dispassionately with a wave of her hand. "She believes that I lead our people into a war that will have no winners; one that will ensure my own death. She cannot stand behind me on this, she does not believe that we can win against such a formidable enemy."

You feel inexplicably sad at this information, that the commander is so very alone in this fight for true peace for your people. You think that it must be such a heavy burden to bear, without another to share the weight.

"You know," you say, taking several slow steps forward, while still keeping a respectful distance between yourself and the commander. "When I was seventeen, my mother forbade me to leave our home when a _trikru_ army of three hundred warriors was marching towards our city." You pause here briefly, noting the small twinkle beginning in the commander's eyes, already knowing that she has heard the story before, but maybe not as you are telling it now. "Most of our senior warriors were fighting a battle near _Tondisi,_ and the only ones that remained were wounded,and _trikru_ thought that it would be the best time to strike at the heart of our territory. My mother was already planning to evacuate our people up the mountain, in hopes that it would slow them down enough that our warriors would return in time to fight them off. I could not risk such a thing, could not think about the possibility of _my_ city burning to the ground at the hands of our enemies. So, I called upon fifty of my comrades, none above the age of eighteen, and I led them without my mother's knowledge to the borders of our territory. Do you know what happened?"

"What?" The commander asks, her voice a rasp as she stares back at you. She already knows the answer, but you think she wishes to be reassured.

"We won," you say lightly, with a casual shrug. "Fifty young _azgeda_ warriors against three hundred senior _trikru_ warriors, and we pushed them back from our territory and scattered them, without losing a single man or woman in the fight. I had lost more than half my blood by the time it was over and _Fin_ had to carry me back to our city, but we _won_."

At the mention of Fin, you feel your throat briefly tighten with emotion, but you push it down, because that is not what this story is about.

"It is possible," you say, more softly now, looking up from the ground to meet the commander's eyes. "It will not be easy, but it can be done. I would not have backed you otherwise."

You think that if there had been anyone else in the room, you would not have recieved the answer that was given in response to your words. Never in a thousand years.

" _Thank you_ ," the commander says in _azgedesleng,_ and you don't know what is more shocking; the words she said, the language in which she spoke them, or the utter sincerity in which she uttered them.

" _Pro_ ," you reply in _trigedesleng,_ because what else can you say, truly, in the face of such sincerity.


	7. Chapter 7

When the commander offers for you to join her when it is time to leave for the war meeting, you accept without hesitation.

You had spoken of nothing of true importance for the rest of your meeting, simply discussed your views on the other leaders of the coalition and where you thought they stood in relation to the commander's war. You discussed which clans would be most valuable, in relation to weapons and how many warriors they could provide, and who you thought would be most willing to provide food and supplies for the armies and who would keep as much as they could to themselves.

It was enlightening to say the least, to find out exactly what the commander thought of each of her disciples and their clans.

She favoured _trikru,_ of course, though it was more than just bias; it was well known that the _trigedakru_ was the first clan to join the commander's coalition without question, and it had been _trikru_ who had helped the commander end most of the wars between the other clans, despite their own ongoing battles with your people. They were more than willing to offer their _heda_ whatever she desired of them, though truthfully, she did not ask for much, and their loyalty to her was of no question. They would fight and die for her if asked, and they would move on from this life to the next with pride over the fact.

You were somewhat surprised when you listened to the commander praise the _floukru_ most highly next, after the way you had seen the commander look at Luna so recently, still fresh in your mind. Despite the fact that the _floukru_ were one of the most peaceful clans, it was well known that their warriors were fierce and well respected throughout the coalition, though they lacked the numbers of _trikru_ and _azgedakru._ What the _floukru_ lacked in warriors, they more than made up for in supplies, being one of the most prosperous clans with their vineyards and crops and a neverending ocean of fish at their backs. Luna's barrels of smoked fish and her crops of wheat and vegetables would be crucial to sustaining the commander's army throughout the war against the Mountain.

You discussed the other clans more briefly; you would need weapons from the _ouskejonkru,_ who mined ore and silver from the mountains that surrounded their territory, and you would need the horses from the _ingranrona_ and the _sangedakru_ , who bred the beasts in abundance. From the other clans, such as the people of _louwoda kliron_ and the _podakru,_ you would need rations and whatever warriors that they could spare, to build up the rest of the commander's army.

You did not discuss _azgedakru_ and you didn't truly need to. You both knew what was needed from your clan and that was _warriors. Azgeda_ had more warriors than any other clan, save for _trikru_ who matched you somewhat evenly with numbers, though their warriors prided themselves on brute strength while yours came to victory with their knowledge of their enemies and their cunning. It is people like Reivon, with her knowledge of old world weapons and her extreme intelligence and people like Echo, with her pure determination and devious mind that will give your army an edge in battle. It will be what will help turn the tide of war in your favor, when the _Mounon_ underestimates you as savages.

It will be an army the likes of which this world had never seen, since long before the bombs that destroyed it almost a century ago.

"Where will we make camp?" You ask as the elevator slowly ascends the floors of the commander's tower towards the throne room. "It will have to be far enough away that the _Mounon_ cannot use their acid fog. What _are_ we going to do about that, by the way? The acid fog, I mean."

It must have been the hundredth question that you have asked so far, though the commander continues to listen to each and every worry you voice patiently, taking the time to consider each question carefully before she replies.

"I have not yet thought of an answer to that question," the commander says after several long moments of contemplation. "If you come up with an idea, I advise you to share it with me. As for where we will make camp, we shall discuss it in the war meeting, though I have been considering the plains outside the woods that surround _Tondisi._ "

You imagine the spot in your mind, making mental calculations before nodding your head in agreement. "I know the area of which you speak; it would be acceptable. Big enough to hold the entire army and far enough out of range of any of the Mountain's technology, save a missile, though I believe Reivon told me that they would need one of their men nearby if they were to try such a thing. It could be easily prevented with enough warriors to guard the area."

The commander glances at you curiously out of the corner of her eye. "A warrior in your _kru_ told you that? How does she know?"

You shrug your shoulders easily. "She enjoys reading, as do I, though we prefer different subjects. She has read many books about the old world and it's technology and our people have come out of more battles victoriously because of it."

"It was she who gave you the idea for the old world bomb that set fire to that abandoned village?" The commander asks in surprise and you shoot her a small grin in response.

"It was _she_ who made it," you say proudly, causing the other woman to hum in appreciation, just as the elevator comes to a stop and the doors are pulled open.

You take a step out of the elevator and glance at the double doors that lead into the throne room, already able to hear the hum of coversation on the other side. The commander is just about to walk past you and open the doors when you stop her with your hand on her arm, causing the other woman to glance down in surprise.

You realise what you've done a second too late and pull your hand back as if you've been burned. You clear your throat when the commander looks up to meet your gaze, pushing down your embaressment at the way the dark haired woman looks at you in response to your touch.

"Sorry," you say hurriedly, waving in the vague direction of the commander's arm before continuing. "You should wait here for a moment."

The commander's brow furrows in confusion at your suggestion. "Why would I do that?"

"So that I can go in first," you reply, resisting the urge to roll your eyes when the commander continues to stare at you blankly. "I will go in first and you can wait for a minute before you follow me and make your grand entrance, as you always do."

A tiny smile tugs at the corner of the commander's lips at your words and its a strange thing to know that you've almost somehow caused her to smile, for whatever reason.

"Or, we could go in and make a grand entrance together," the commander says slowly, that smirk still tugging at her lips before it suddenly disappears. "Unless you do not wish to be seen with me, in which case, I understand your desire for discretion."

"What?" You ask, your brow furrowing in confusion before you sigh and shake your head as understanding seeps in. "No- I mean, that isn't why- nevermind. Let's just go."

The commander raises an eyebrow at your stuttering, but she follows you without hesitation as the guards open the doors for you. You stride into the room, almost side by side, though you make sure to keep yourself one step behind the commander, for the sake of politics.

The hush that spreads across the rooms almost instantly is enough to cause a shiver to run down your spine and you're entirely aware of the looks you recieve, standing at the commander's side as she sweeps into the room. It's not entirely unpleasant, since you are more than used to being on the recieving end of suspicious glances and angry eyes, but you are somewhat surprised that at least half the looks you recieve border on approval and relief and no small amount of envy.

You can't help but smirk at little bit in response and it's only briefly that you wonder just how long it will take before this information reaches your mother's ears.

You decide that you don't really care all that much.

The commander turns away from her throne at the other end of the room, the leaders of the clans parting before her as she leads the way to an almost hidden door on the left side of the hall. She pushes the heavy wooden door open and steps inside a candlelit room and you follow her without a moment of hesitation, your blue eyes widening when you take in the sight before you.

There is a large round table in the centre of the room, though there are no chairs that surround it. Candles line the walls and are spread over every available surface, illuminating the map that covers the entire length of the table. You step toward the edge and gaze down with a look of reverence, your hands gliding briefly across the skin upon which the map is drawn in so much beautiful detail.

In the very center of the map stands a detailed model of the _Mountain,_ with a field of yellow flowers at the base that surrounds the door that leads inside, a door you know well. South of the Mountain spreads the vast lands of _trikru_ territory, with a small model of each and every village that is hidden within the woods, from _tondisi_ to _kalgonasa_. Thick blue brushstrokes weave between the trees, rivers and creeks, with smaller, darker lines to show roads and tracks, some that you know and others that you don't, (you file away these small bits of information for later use) leading between villages and hunting grounds. Further away still is _Trishana,_ the lands of the glowing forest, that you had visited with your father when you had been only eight years old. A peaceful people, the _Trishana_ clan worships the beautiful forest, tainted heavily with radiation from the old world bombs, which causes the flora and fauna to glow in the dark of night.

(you remember your father's face, his tanned skin glowing blue as he stared up at the century old trees of the forest, fingers reaching for the bright azure butterflies that flew peacefully overhead. You think of the glowing flowers that he weaved into your blonde hair, the ones you still had, tucked away in your drawers at home, as dead and lifeless now as the man himself.)

Further south, the forest of the _trishana_ blends into the coast, where miles of golden sand seeps into the bright blue ocean. Your eyes linger fondly of the island of the _floudonkru,_ where Luna rules over her peaceful clan with their beloved boats and wine. The island is not overly large, though the entire city is surrounded by high wooden gates, similar to the ones that surround your own city. Buildings made of wood and rock sit at the center, surrounded by vineyards and crops, with hundreds of minature boats anchored around the island, dingy's and rowboats and even a few large ships.

You let your eyes wander to the east, where the great lake of the _Podakru_ sits, surrounded by hundreds of tiny villages that live off the biggest body of water that you have ever seen, outside of the ocean. Behind the lake are the mountains, where the people of the _Ouskejonkru_ dwell in their cities of rock and to the north of them spreads the smaller city of the _Boudalan._

To the west of the Mountain, less than fifty miles away from the _trikru_ border, is the capital city of Polis, with the model of the commander's tower standing proudly in the middle. The city is larger than any other in the coalition, holding thousands of people from each of the clans and spreading out for miles in each direction. Your blue eyes flick from the training grounds to the library at the city's center, with the hundreds of huts that house that city's inhabitants at the edges. The markets line the main street, that leads to the commander's tower, along with other buildings and structures that you haven't visited yet.

To the south of the capitol is the small village of the _Yujleda_ and to the north is the _Louwada Kliron_ , which is surrounded by dense forests that are inhabited by dangerous beasts that are the center of children's nightmares. Even further west of the Mountain and of Polis, is the small city of the _Delfikru,_ followed by the large expanse of desert that belongs to the _Sangedakru._ Below the desert, the plains of the _Ingranrona_ lie, where hundreds of horses run free across the hundreds of miles of tall grass that belongs to the Plain Riders clan.

Finally, you look to the North, where directly behind the Mountain and spreading out for thousands of miles, is the land of the _azgedakru._ Your territory is surrounded by snow capped mountains that stand hundreds of miles tall, and they curl around your territory in a protective curve, before they meld into the lands of _trikru_ to the South, _Boudalan_ to the east and _Louwada Kliron_ to the west. Your city sits closer to the south, though it is still more than thirty miles to the Mountain and even further still from _trikru_ territory. The small villages of your people are spread throughout your territory and you are both surprised and proud to find that there are paths and places that have not been placed on the map.

You look up from the table to find the commander standing directly across from you, studying the map similiarly, though she glances up after a few moments as if she can feel your gaze. You can't help the smile that slowly spreads across your lips and it only grows when the commander returns it without restraint.

You have been in the war room for two hours already and things are yet to get any further than what you and the commander have already discussed in private.

You fight the urge the roll your eyes when the leaders of the _Sangedakru_ and the _Ingronrona_ get into another pissing match about who will send more warriors and horses to the capitol for the war.

You run your fingers through your tangled blonde locks and share a weary smirk with Luna, who stands by your side, before glancing at the commander for the hundredth time this evening. She leans upon the table, her head tilted slightly towards the two men who continue to argue, even as her green eyes trace numerous paths on the map. Her nimble fingers tap out a pattern upon the stretched canvas as her eyes dart from Polis to the Mountain and back again, flickering over roads and hunting trails, searching. You try to follow the path she is constructing with her gaze; bordering around the edge of the _trikru_ territory for maybe forty miles, before following the road that crosses through both _trikru_ territory and _trishana._ It leads far enough away to avoid the _Mounon's_ acid fog, you notice, and you are aware of the way the commander's eyes linger on the plains outside of the _trikru_ woods that she had spoken of earlier, maybe a four hour trek away from _Tondisi._

From the other side of the table, your own fingers fiddle with a minature flag, black with the commander's sigil painted on both sides. You place it down upon the map, just outside of the commander's tower, before slowly beginning to drag it over the canvas, along the same path that the commander had mapped with her gaze. Your fingers move painstakingly slow as you slide it past the _trikru_ border and through the glowing forests, until you come to a stop in the middle of the plains and twirl it in a slow circle before you pull your hand away casually and leave it there.

You look up briefly to find the commander's green eyes focused intently on the flag, the tiniest smile pulling at her lips.

On the other side of the room, the pissing match continues, oblivious.

To your left, you watch from the corner of your eye as Luna picks up three of the minature flags, studying them casually before leaning over to drop them with nochalance upon the map. You raise your eyebrows curiously at the positions she places them in; one in _Tondisi,_ one to the west, maybe ten miles away from the plains where your own flag was placed, and one to east at a similiar distance.

It does not take you long to come to the same conclusion as Luna and when you do, you raise your eyebrows further upon your brow in pleasant surprise at what both you and the commander had overlooked.

If the _Mounon_ did decide to drop a missile on your army, it would only be effective against one portion of the force, leaving the other factions to continue the fight. And with more than one camp, you could spread out the leaders of each _kru,_ having them move between camps regularly so that the Mountain Men would not know where they were at any given time.

"Have I told you today how wonderful you are?" You murmur under your breath to the other woman, glancing at her out of the corner of your eye. "How smart and beautiful? How in awe I am of you?"

" _Beja, Klark,_ " Luna grins, meetings your blue eyes with her sparkling grey. "Don't stop."

To your right, the pissing match goes on and on.

You are so busy grinning down at the map, you do not notice the small frown that furrows the commander's brow, as she gazes at you from across the room.

" _Em pleni._ " The commander's voice cuts through the men's arguement like a knife, despite the softness of her words. "This has been enough for one day, we will continue this discussion tomorrow."

She dismisses you all with a wave of her hand and you pause for a moment, wanting to discuss things further with the commander, but you take in the small frown etched on her brow and decide that it would best for you to wait.

You turn around with the others, walking behind Luna as she slips out of the war room, and you glance out of the window to take note of how late it is. The moon has only just begun to rise and it is still early enough that you are just about to ask Luna if she wants to return to the tavern, when someone calls your name.

Your close your eyes briefly and let out a silent sigh, only opening them when you feel a hand pull gently on your sleeve.

"Meet me at the tavern after you are done?" Luna whispers, her gaze flickering between you and the still open door to the war room, where the commander is waiting for you to return.

"You read my mind, oh beautiful one," you say in response, earning a grin before Luna turns to swagger out of the throne room, leaving you alone.

Well, not entirely alone.

You walk back into the war room to regard the commander, who still leans over the map with that small furrow between her brows. She seems somewhat annoyed, and you wonder if the arguement between the _sangedakru_ and the _ingronrana_ leaders got to her more than she was letting on. It was almost enough to drive you _insane_ , and you are somewhat in awe of the commander's patience that she was able to put up with it for so long before calling the meeting to an end.

"Yes, _heda_?" You ask politely, coming to stand across from the commander once more. You look down at the map, your gaze falling briefly upon the way the commander's fingers still tap rythmically against the fabric, before you turn your eyes to the Mountain.

"Do you believe that splitting our forces would be the wisest course of action?" The commander asks you quietly and you open your mouth to answer immediately, but let it close again once you consider the commander's tone. It feels like a test, the way she asked you the question and you stare down hard at the map as you consider your reply.

"No." You say slowly, feeling the commander's eyes pierce into you, but refusing to look up. "I believe that splitting our forces is our _only_ course of action. Keeping the army in one place would be foolish and arrogant and it could very well be what loses this war for us."

You look up then, to find the commander predictably gazing back at you, her eyes contemplative as she studies your face. You try to keep your expression blank, hiding the unexpected anxiety you feel at the intensity of her gaze, before the commander nods her head once and returns her eyes to the table.

"I admit, I had overlooked this folly until Luna pointed it out," the dark haired woman murmurs, her eyes flickering between the four flags that rest upon the map. "I am glad that she was here and that her eyes follow you so closely, for we may not have seen our mistake until it was too late, otherwise."

You actually _flinch,_ not at the words, but at the _tone_ which the commander uses to deliever them. There is an unexpected bitterness there, heavy and thick, along with no small amount of disdain, directed towards you. You are unsure of why it effects you so, all you know is that it _does._

What is worse, you have no idea what you have done to earn it.

You open your mouth to snap back instinctively, but decide against it at the last minute. Instead, you turn on your heel and walk away, leaving the door to the war room open behind you as you cross the floor of the throne room with quick steps. Your heart feels heavy in your chest and you stomach is twisting unpleasantly by the time the two heavy double doors close behind you with a tone of finality. You try to push the negative feelings away as you slip into the elevator, but the commander's words continue to ring in your skull.

The commander does not call you back and for that, you are grateful.

You return to the tavern, where you find Luna already waiting, always with a smile when she sees you.

You let her ply you with cup after cup of the _floukru's_ famous wine and you let yourself forget about the way you had felt, alone in the war room with commander, with the bitterness of her words slipping beneath your skin like a blade.

You drink and you smile and when your _kru_ come down from the tower to join you, you let the memory slip away even further, to be replaced with ones of laughter and stories.

You don't think about the woman who currently stands outside your bedroom door, with words on her lips that she rarely ever says and a confused frown on her face as she wonders why she wants to say them at all.

When you return to your quarters, it is long past midnight, and the people of your _kru_ had retired long before, leaving you at the tavern with Luna until you were the very last patrons.

You say goodbye to the other woman in the elevator, sharing a sloppy grin as the dark haired woman leans lazily against the wall, making a promise to meet up for lunch the next day to soak up any residual alcohol in your stomachs. You stumble out into the corridor that has been reserved for the _azgedakru_ alone, ignoring the guard that eyes you warily as you wander down the hallway, quietly humming the tune that some musicians had been playing at the tavern. You open the door to your quarters after several minutes of fumbling, kicking it closed behind you and throwing your leopard skin cloak to the ground at your feet.

You're half way through pulling off your second boot when someone clears their throat from across the room and despite the amount of alcohol you have drunk, adrenaline makes you instantly alert.

You pull the dagger from the small of your back without a second thought, throwing it across the room with deadly accuracy and would have hit your mark in the throat, had they not ducked out of the way at the very last moment.

" _Motherfucker,_ " you hiss furiously, falling naturally into your mother tongue in your shock when you take a proper look at the intruder. The room is dark, lit only by the single guttering candle on your bedside table, throwing flickering shadows over the other woman's face. " _What the fuck, Leksa?"_

The commander's eyes are almost comically wide, the whites of her eyes clearly visible in the darkness of the room, and her eyebrows rise even further in surprise on her brow when she takes in what you have said. You realise too a moment later that you have used her name instead of her title, but you are too drunk and still in too much shock to really think about it, or care.

" _Have you lost your mind?"_ You continue to speak in _azgedasleng_ without thought as you reach down to finish pulling off your other boot. " _I could have killed you!"_

"I apologise," the commander responds woodenly. "I did not think."

"Obviously," you growl, reverting back to _gonasleng_ with ease. You run your fingers roughly through your hair, taking a moment to think about the fact that you almost just accidentally assasinated the _commander of the twelve clans_. _Skrish_. "By all the gods of the old world, what are you even doing here?"

You turn to look at her when you recieve no immediate reply and your eyes fall instantly on the way the commander is gripping her hands together in front of her body, almost as if in prayer, though she is squeezing so tightly that her knuckles have turned white. If you didn't know better, you would think that the commander was _nervous_.

"Well?" You ask when it seems that the commander will not reply. "Is there a reason for your prescence in my quarters? Or has Kostia just kicked you out of your bed?"

You are only partially aware of what you are saying, your mind and blood thick with wine as you stumble towards your bed, unable to care that the commander of the twelve clans is in your room as you unbutton your shirt. All you care about is the fact that it is _hot_ and you are _tired._

"Kostia has not joined me in our bed for some time."

 _That_ is enough to give you pause and you turn around to face the commander with wide eyes, noting the way she stares back at you in just as much shock, if not more, at what has slipped out of her mouth. You sit heavily on the edge of your bed, with your shirt half unbuttoned, and simply continue to stare back at the commander without words.

"I'm sorry." You both say at the same time, only to pause simultaneously once the apology has slipped from your lips. The commander still looks to be in a state of shock, so you take advantage of the moment and decide to speak first.

"I am sorry," you say softly, more than a little glad for the alcohol running through your veins. "It was not my place to ask, though I am sorry to hear it all the same."

"It is of little consequence," the commander replies, though the subtle break in her voice is more than enough to tell you how she truly feels about the subject. It is raw and so unbearably _human,_ that in this moment, you cannot hate her. "And it is not why I am here. I came to apologise for the way I spoke to you earlier. I was frustrated at the way the negotiations for the war were going and I let those frustrations out on you. It was unfair of me and I apologise."

You raise your eyebrows in surprise at the words and you wonder if its the alcohol in your system playing tricks on you. "How long were you waiting here to say that?"

The commander shrugs nochanlantly. "Since shortly after you left the war room."

If it's possible, your brows rise even further. "That was _hours_ ago. You could not have waited until the morning?"

"I have found that is unwise to wait to say such things," the commander says, once again wise and all knowing. "I do not wish to die regretting things that I have left unsaid."

You give yourself a moment to let these words sink in, before you let a tiny smile crack your lips. "I do not believe that you would have died before morning, commander."

"Maybe not," the commander shrugs her shoulder easily, brushing off the words. "Maybe I just did not wish to wait. Either way, I have said what I needed to say; I will depart now so that you may rest in peace."

Your eyes follow her as she walks slowly to the door and you are still smiling slightly when she turns once to glance back at you.

" _Reshop, heda,_ " you say, earning a tiny smile in response.

" _Goodnight, Klark,_ " she returns, her voice equally soft.

And then she is gone and you can't help but wonder if it all had been a dream.


	8. Chapter 8

You do _not_ wake up at dawn the next morning.

Belomi enters your room when it is still dark, giving you _skrish_ for still being in bed at a time that you would normally consider _late_ , but you wave him away with a truly pathetic groan and he thankfully leaves after a few more playful comments. You drink the water that you left on your bedside table the night before and you have fallen back to sleep only moments after your friend has closed the door.

You wake up a few hours later to the sun shining through your windows, almost blinding your barely slitted eyes, and the throbbing in your skull is _almost_ enough to make you get out of bed, if only to close the blinds, but instead, you roll over and pull the blankets over your head and go back to sleep.

The next time you wake up, it is because of a noise. You ignore it, even though the throbbing in your skull has dulled significantly, and curl yourself tighter beneath your covers. Unfortunetely, the noise persists, and you're about to yell for the person knocking at your door to _go away_ , when fortuntely, the knocking stops.

 _Un_ fortuntely, the door simply opens instead, followed by the sound of light footsteps entering your room.

You do not move from your position beneath the covers, since you assume whoever would knock before entering your room is _not_ here to kill you, unless they are a very polite assassin. You merely grumble out a muffled, ' _what?_ ' and wait, with your eyes still closed, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep.

They open very quickly at the very clear, very close, reply.

"This is the second time in two days that you have made me wait, Klark. What is under that blanket that is more important to you than meeting with your _heda_?"

You do not move, simply blink in the darkness of your safe cacoon, and the reply that slips from your lips comes without thought.

"A mattress."

Silence follows your words and in your mind, you are cursing yourself in every way that you know how. With much hesitation, you slowly pull the blanket from your face, to find the commander standing by your bed, staring back at you.

You are thankful to find that she looks just as shocked by your audacity as you are, which means that you might have enough time to get out of the bed and hopefully run for your life. If only you were not seemingly frozen in place.

"I apologise," you say, slowly, trying to put as much sincerity into your words as you can manage. Your voice is husky from sleep and you clear your throat quietly before you continue. "That is not what I meant to say. What I meant to say is that I did not recieve a message that you had requested my prescence, at least not to my knowledge. I sincerely apologise for wasting your time."

"Again," the commander finally says after several long moments of tense silence. "You sincerely apologise for wasting my time, _again._ "

"Yes," you murmur demurely. "That. Sorry."

The commander rolls her eyes, actually _rolls her eyes_ at you, before sighing agrievedly. "I hope that this does not become a habit of yours, Klark."

"It won't," you assure her, even as you pull the covers tighter beneath your chin.

"Very well," the other woman says, glancing briefly out of the window before giving you an impatient look. "There is still some time left before midday, when I have a meetings with my advisers. If you are quick, we can return to my quarters and discuss further which route would be most beneficial for us to take to the plains."

"I thought we already decided that last night," you question, still not moving from your position.

"We did, but since Luna has already pointed out one flaw in our desicions, I think it best if we go over everything we've already planned more thouroughly." The commander says sagely, before waving towards you impatiently. "Come, Klark, we are only wasting more time."

You still don't move.

"I will meet you in your quarters shortly," you say, earning a confused and almost frustrated look from the commander. "There are things I must do before I can join you."

"What is more important than planning for this war?" The commander asks with a heavy frown. You almost sigh, considering your options before deciding on the truth.

"Clothing," you offer, earning a raised eyebrow from the commander. This time, you do sigh. "I am naked, _heda._ "

The way the commander's eyes widen comically at this information is actually worth the embaressment, though you do not miss the way her green orbs flick over the blanket that covers you before returning to your face.

"Oh," she just says, before turning swiftly on her heel and striding towards the door. "I will meet you in my room as soon as you are ready."

The door closes behind her and you turn to bury your face into the pillow, unsure of whether to laugh or cry.

It turns out that the hour before midday is more than enough time to plan your route to the plains, along with several other details that you hadn't even come close to discussing yet in the war meeting.

"Why?" You ask the commander, your voice bordering on a whine, as you sit on the chair by the window while she ties her sash in place. "Why do we even bother with these war meetings, when nothing of worth comes from them? We would be better off with just you and I planning this war."

The commander actually _snorts_ at your words, causing you to turn away from the view of the city below to catch the small smile on her face as she finishes buckling her shoulder armor in place. The sight has become less surprising over the past few days, though it still feels like an accomplishment every time.

"True as that may be," the other woman says. "It is neccessary for the sake of politics to invite the leaders of each clan to the war meetings. Whether I decide to inevitably take their advice or not on certain matters is inconsequential, it is simply important that I have them think that I will consider their opinions at all."

You raise an eyebrow at this surprising amount of honestly, though your words border on sarcastic when you speak. "You need to pacify them, to make them feel important, because otherwise they will become childish and possibly disrupt all of your carefully laid plans when they realise that you are just using them?"

The commander's green eyes are cold when they meet yours, her face once more an impassive mask. "Essentially, yes. Does that bother you, Klark?"

"Not at all," you say, somewhat flippantly, turning your gaze back to the window. "Though I cannot help but wonder if these meetings between you and I are not for the same reasons. Do you ask me here because you geniunely appreciate my opinions and ideas? Or are you simply trying to keep a sembelance of control over your biggest threat?"

"My biggest threat?" The words are cool, spoken in that deceptively soft tone of voice, sending a brief chill down your spine, but you do not waver.

"Essentially, yes," you mock her, bringing your hand up to tap a thoughtful finger against your chin. "How long do you think the other leaders would continue support this war if _azgeda_ was to suddenly withdraw? If _Wanheda_ was to announce that your ideals were folly and that she would not follow you into battle? Hypothetically, of course."

The silence that follows your question is an answer on it's own.

The silence continues and when you turn around, you are surprised to find the commander standing much closer than before, almost at your side. Your eyes instinctively drop to her hands and you think the other woman must notice the action, because she holds them out towards you, weaponless.

"You truly do not trust me at all, do you?" The commander asks softly, causing you to look up into green eyes that stare back at you with a mixture of emotions that you cannot name.

"No," you answer honestly, without thought.

The commander's expression does not faulter, if anything, it becomes more guarded. She drops her hands limply to her sides and gives you a short nod before turning on her heel and striding towards the door.

"I must go to my meeting with my advisors," the commander says, not turning around when she opens the door. "I will see you at the war meeting, Klark."

Something about the way she speaks sets your nerves on edge, and you're not sure if it's the finality in her tone that has you surging up from your seat in panic or the bitter edge of disappointment that curls around her words.

" _Hod up,_ " you say, just as the other woman is about to step outside the door. The dark haired woman pauses in the threshold, her back rigid, though she does not turn around. " _Beja, heda._ "

You don't know if it's the unintentional use of her mother tongue that softens her slightly or the softly spoken plea, but you feel relief trickle through your veins when the commander takes a step back and closes the door to her quarters. She turns around to face you slowly, her expression still guarded, though you catch a hint of vulnerability in her eyes that makes your heart thud painfully in your chest for reasons you cannot name.

"I'm sorry," you say with as much sincerity as you can muster, holding your hands out in a silent plea for forgiveness.

"Why?" The commander asks you unexpectedly, explaining when your brow furrows in confusion. "You simply spoke the truth, Klark, as you said to me that you would in these meetings between us. You should not apologise for keeping your word."

She wasn't wrong, since you had spoken the truth when you admitted that you didn't trust her, but that wasn't exactly why you were apologising now, was it.

"I agree, but that's not-," you sigh, bringing up your hand to run your fingers through your hair. You have always been good with words but they seem to have deserted you now, as you search your mind for a way to explain. "Look, I am _trying_ , okay?"

A furrow of confusion mars the skin of the commander's brow, even as her face softens slightly at your earnest words. "Trying?"

"Yes," you nod, unconciously taking a step closer to the other woman. "I am trying. I am trying really _jokking_ hard to trust you, to trust in _all_ of this. I _want_ to believe you; I do not _want_ to be plauged by doubts or to worry that I am being munipulated. It is tiring and I am exhausted from second guessing every word that you say to me, searching for a hidden betrayal behind everything you do, but it is _hard._ It is hard to try and trust you, but I swear to you, _Leksa,_ I am doing my best."

With every sentence, you had taken another step closer to the commander until there was only a short distance between the two of you, until she was within reach of your hand. The dark haired woman's face was a mixture of surprise and understanding, unimaginably soft to your pleading gaze and you feel a shiver of relief tremble in your bones when she dips her head in acceptance.

"I know that I have given you no reason to place your trust in me, Klark," the commander says, her words soft and earnest. "But _I_ will also try and give you no reason to regret such a desicion, if one day you deem me worthy of such a thing."

You nod your head shakily, unable to form words and the commander offers you a brief, sad crooked smile before she returns your nod.

Another moment and she is gone.

When you stumble down to the outdoor tavern, sometime shortly after midday, you find Luna already seated at a table outside, along with half of your _kru_ and a fair amount of others.

"Klark!" The woman greets you with enthusiasm, pulling out the empty chair by her side for you to sit in, admist cheers from the rest of your party. You drop into the seat heavily, causing the dark haired woman's smile to flicker for a bare moment before it returns to it's previous magnificence. "We have been eagerly awaiting your arrival."

"And I have been eagerly awaiting _this_ ," you say, taking the mug of mead that Reivon presses into your hand before downing half of it in a few eager swallows. Reivon regards you with raised eyebrows as you place the cup back upon the wooden surface and you shrug off the look with a forced smile. "Long morning."

You let your eyes flit over the faces that surround you, most of them familiar with only one or two strangers added into the mix. The group had taken all but one or two of the barrel tables from the outdoor tavern and had pushed them together, same as the day before, to make one larger table. There were at least thirty to forty people, half of them your _kru,_ while some belonged to Luna's clan and three or four of the _sadgedakru_ that you had spoken to yesterday. The faces that you _didn't_ know wore the dark furs of the _Louwada Kliron_ clan and you let yourself relax when the two men offer you hesitant and bashful smiles from behind their mugs. You return their smiles wearily, offering them a small wave before you turn your attention back to the woman at your side, who is studying you carefully.

"What have I missed?" You ask her, meeting her bright grey eyes with as much enthusiasm as you can muster. "Anything interesting?"

Luna seems to take note of the way you are attempting to direct the conversation away from yourself and shakes off her mildly concerned expression, replacing it with her usual smile. "Nothing truly entertaining, though _Nico kom sangedakru_ did regale us with an amusing story about a man and a sheep while we were waiting for you."

You wrinkle your nose at the twinkle of mischeif in the dark haired woman's eyes. "I do not believe that I would wish to hear it repeated, would I."

"I do not believe so," Luna chuckles, leaning back in her seat beside you and throwing her arm over your shoulder with a grin. The warm weight is comforting after your somewhat emotional exchange with the commander earlier and you lean back into it without hesitation. Luna's grey eyes flick over your face, studying your expression briefly, and whatever she finds is enough for her to wrap her arm slightly tighter around your shoulders, pulling you to the edge of your seat until you are almost pressed up against her side.

"Are you okay?" She murmurs quietly, leaning in close to keep the words muffled between your bodies so that no one else can hear them. "You eyes are not so bright as they were yesterday, _prisa._ "

"It must be from all the wine I drank yesterday," you say, forcing a small smile onto your lips. "I'm okay."

Your words are unconvincing if the look in Luna's eyes are any indication, but the dark haired woman nods her head anyway, pulling back slightly and returning her attention to the table. You sigh silently in response and follow her gaze, offering Belomi a smile from across the table as you pick up your mug again. You push away your thoughts of the woman that currently resides inside the tower of Polis and redirect your attention to the conversation around the table.

It is hard and you don't completely succeed, but you try.

You cannot remember exactly how much wine you have drunk today, but it is not _nearly_ enough to deal with this war meeting.

If the first meeting had been slow progress, then the second meeting was infinitely worse. You can do no more than wish for a dagger to plunge into your own chest as you lean upon the war table, your rough palms pressed against the soft surface of the map, while you listen to the incessant bickering between the other clan leaders. You are finding yourself teetering on a dangerous line between falling asleep and exploding in frustrated rage as you attempt to filter through all the _nomonjokking_ horse _skrish_ tumbling from the mouths of the room's other occupants.

 _By all the god's of the old world,_ you think as the current arguement shifts from bedding to cooking equiptment and other completely unimportant things when you are meant to be planning a _war_.

You push away from the table, straightening the tense muscles in your spine before crossing your arms over your chest. You feel Luna lean into your side, shoulder pressing against your own and you tilt your head slightly to catch a glimpse of the other woman's profile from the corner of your eye and actually crack a smile.

Luna's expression is one of unimpressed boredom and your smile widens as you watch her trim her nails with a tiny dagger, her brows furrowed in concentration.

You aren't sure how she managed to smuggle in a weapon, since only the commander was allowed to be armed in these meetings, but you doubt that anyone will notice with the current arguement circulating around the table. Currently, it was about _soap._

 _Nomonjokking_ soap.

You honestly cannot help the next words that slip out of your mouth, though you don't think you would have tried to repress them, even if you could.

" _Duran_ ," you say evenly, causing the leader of the _delfikru_ to stutter to a stop mid-sentence. The entire room falls silent at the deceptively soft tone of your voice and you fix your gaze on the table, even as if you feel several pairs of eyes burn into your skin. "Do you think your people will care about _scented soaps_ when they are attempting to evade the bullets of the _Mountain Men_?"

You look up and fix your ice cold gaze upon the _delfikru_ leader's face, taking in his unhinged jaw and wide, shocked eyes and you smile without warmth, lips parting to reveal white teeth and sharp canines. The same feral smile that once had a _trikru_ warrior, who had been double your size, cowering at your feet in the heat of battle, when you had been only seventeen.

"I do not doubt the importance of hygiene in a war camp," you continue earnestly, though there is a hint of frustration tinging your words. "Cleanliness is essential to stop the spread of sickness and disease and it is important for morale that the warriors are comfortable. What I _do_ doubt is whether they will care when they are scouting the _Mounon_ or whether they will care when they are fighting the reapers, if they washed their bodies with _pine scented soap_ or _wild rose scented soap_ that morning."

You let your blue eyes flick around the table, taking in the expressions of those around you, letting your eyes linger briefly on the commander who is watching you with the same indifference that she has been wearing all night, though there is spark in her green eyes that encourages you further.

"What _is_ important," you say, turning your gaze next to the man standing tall at the commander's side. " _Hephan kom ouskejonkru,_ is how many steel shields you can provide, to protect our warriors from the Mountain Men's bullets in battle."

Hephan's brow furrows briefly over his deep brown eyes as he regards you thoughfully, crossing his thickly muscled arms over his brawny chest. "We have enough shields to protect maybe one hundred, though my smith's could make more if we were to find any old wreckage near the _Mounon._ "

You nod your head in acceptance. "I know of some places that could be of use to your smiths, near my people's borders. Wreckage from the old world; my captain Reivon could mark the sites on a map for you, she knows them well."

The older man nods his head in satisfaction and you let your lips twitch upwards slightly in an almost smile before you turn your gaze away, towards _Leida kom Podakru,_ a woman that you have met once before with your father. Her hazel coloured eyes are kind as they meet your gaze and you let a soft smile cross your features briefly.

"And you, Leida," you say, causing the woman to lift her chin proudly. "Your people are known for being some of the best healers that the coalition has to offer. Herbs and medicine to fight off infection and to slow blood flow would be invaluable to our cause."

"Aye," the woman responds, her voice light and musical. "We have fewer warriors to offer than most, but more than enough medicine to treat any that should suffer a wound from the Mountain Men's weapons. I will see to it that supplies are brought in abundance, _Klark kom azgedakru._ "

You tilt your head in acknowledgement, turning your gaze back to the commander, who is still watching you with that glint in her eyes.

"I would appreciate anything that you could spare, Leida," the commander says, finally tearing her gaze away from you to regard the _podakru_ leader. "It is inevitable that lives will be lost during the war, but with enough medicine to treat our wounded, we can hopefully keep our casualties to a minimum."

You can only stifle your smile of triumph and lean back and watch as the commander's gaze moves to _Juan kom Boudalan_ next _,_ to question how many spare swords his smith's can hammer out at short notice.

It is still slow progress, but it is something, at least.

"Klark, _hod op._ "

You have barely managed to take two steps away from the war table after the commander's dismissal of the clan leader's before the woman in question halts you with her softly spoken command.

"Tavern again?" You murmur to Luna, who has paused by your side as the rest of the room's inhabitants file out the door.

"Always," the raven haired woman replies with a grin, fingers brushing against your arm casually. " _Nico_ promised more of his _stories_ upon our return."

"Listen carefully," you say in response as you walk the other woman to the door. "I want to hear about everything that happens before I arrive, word for word."

"Whatever you want, _prisa,_ " Luna delievers the affectionate line that she heard from Belomi earlier, with a wink. You roll your eyes with a smile as the dark haired woman closes the door to the war room behind her quietly, the slight grin still in place as you turn back around to face the commander.

"Something you need, _heda?_ " You ask her, watching as the green eyed woman writes figures upon a piece of parchment with a stick of charcoal, her hand writing small and neat.

"No," the woman says, glancing up from her writing to fix those intense eyes upon your face. "I will not keep you long. I simply wanted to applaud you on your straight forward approach this evening. It was not something that I could have done, restricted by politics as I am, and I am grateful that you stepped in to save me from the incessant bickering that would have surely caused me to lose my sanity had I been exposed to it for much longer. You did well, Klark."

You are aware of the fact that you are gaping, though you are not sure if you are more surprised by the compliment or the fact that the commander made a _joke._

"What fantasy land have I stepped into?" You ask with no small amount of wonder, causing the commander to tilt her head in what you believe to be feigned confusion. Her green eyes are glinting with amusement and the sight of it makes you feel unreasonably giddy. "Who _are_ you?"

"I go by many names," the commander replies easily, her tone nochalant. " _Leksa kom trikru,_ is one example, though most call me _heda._ "

You stare at each other for several long moments in silence, feeling a smile twitch at your lips as you slowly shake your head in awe. The commander seems to be fighting a similiar battle, the muscles in jaw flickering as she presses her lips into a thin line in an attempt to hide her own amusement.

"I need to sit down," you say finally, only half joking because you do actually feel a little bit lightheaded from all of this unexpected _banter_. "The commander of the twelve clan makes _jokes._ Surely, I did indeed lose my mind somewhere between the arguement about scented soap and the discussion about where to dig the latrines."

The commander grins then finally, an almost bashful smile that has you grinning widely in response, as the dark haired woman looks down at the table, seemingly embaressed.

" _Shop of, Klark_ ," she murmurs, turning her attention back to her charcoal and parchment. "You are dismissed. Try not to drink too heavily this evening, I wish to meet with you before midday tomorrow."

"As my _heda_ commands," you reply seriously, though there is a smirk still twitching your lips as you bow your head. "Good night, commander."

"And you, Klark," you hear the dark haired woman's response as you open the war room door and close in gently behind you, the image of the commander's bashful grin lingering in your mind's eye.


	9. Chapter 9

" _Skrish._ "

Tap. Tap. Tap.

" _Nomonjokka!_ "

Tap. Tap. Tap _. Crunch._

 _"Nomonjokking jok!_ Whose _jokking_ idea was this?"

You share a wicked grin with Reivon as you kneel down on the ground beside her, watching from the corner of your eye as Belomi throws down his tools in rage, shaking out the pain from his hand. He continues to curse loudly in _trigedesleng,_ strange obscenities that you think must be native only to the _trikru,_ and the absurd profanity makes your eyes widen in shock as you simultaneously attempt to stifle your laughter. You force a cool expression over your face, straightening your spine as you turn to regard him with harsh blue eyes, keeping your voice admirably calm as you reply.

"It was _heda_ who asked us of this favor," you say monotonously, earning a scowl from the dark haired man as you attempt to maintain your composed expression with difficulty. You remember a few of his more explicit curses and your facade almost cracks, but you manage to contain yourself. "If you wish to complain, you are more than welcome to seek her out, so that you can express your displeasure with the inadequete _tools_ provided to us. Though, I would advise you not to speak to her in the throne room; we all know how _those_ conversations end. I do not think that even your shared _trikru_ heritage will save you from a fast trip to the ground."

Belomi glares at you venomously as you and Reivon finally burst into hysterical laughter, your bodies shaking with mirth as the man sulks in silence. It is nearing late afternoon and you and your _kru_ have been in the plains to the west of Polis since shortly after dawn, building a fence to surround the paddock that will hold the horses from the _sangedakru_ that are to arrive in a matter of days. It is time consuming work, since there are only thirty of you and the fence has to be large enough to hold more than five hundred horses comfortably, but it is easy, at least for those of you that are good with your hands.

Belomi is not one of those people.

"Go and keep an eye on Jaspa and Monti," you say to Belomi, deciding to be merciful and give him a break once your laughter has died off. "I can see them sharing that bottle of mead from here. Make sure that they have not made any mistakes on their section of the fence; the commander will have our heads if the horses escape before the spring festival."

Belomi stands up with an obidient nod, throwing the two men a suspicious glance as he wanders over to the other side of the paddock, where you can see Monti and Jaspa hammering away whilst chatting animatedly with Monro and Atim. You watch him leave, shaking your head fondly as Belomi snatches the bottle of mead from Jaspa's hand midsip, causing a whine of outrage in response.

" _Branwadas,_ " you say affectionately, turning your gaze back to the post that you are holding in place for Reivon, as she hammers it firmly into the ground. Reivon hums in amused agreement, giving one last hit to the post before stepping back and giving it her nod of approval.

" _That should do it,_ " she says, clapping you on the shoulder as you stand up beside her, gazing down at your section of the fence with pride. " _Shit, we are good at this. Only a few more sections to go and we'll be done._ "

" _Thank the gods,_ " you return, wiping the sweat from your brow with a grin. Despite the fact that it is still the middle of winter, your body is unused to the milder weather of the capital and you can feel your light cotton shirt sticking to your skin with sweat. The sunlight is due to last for another few hours still, shining down upon you mercilessly and you are grateful for the brisk wind that ruffles your hair, turning your cheeks pink with its chill. " _I mean, I appreciate the trust that the commander has put in us to get this done, but I'd rather be at the tavern with a mug of mulled wine right now, listening to some more of Luna's fishing tales."_

" _Agreed,_ " Reivon says as she kneels back down on the hard ground, fitting up two planks of wood with a critical eye before beginning to hammer them together. " _I do love that tavern. I feel like it's the only time that I get to see you, these days._ "

You sigh softly, dropping down beside your friend to hold the wood steady as she continues to work. It's been almost two weeks since your arrival in the capital and you have been unexpectedly _busy._ You still manage to spar with your _kru_ in the early mornings, but that is quickly followed by private meetings with the commander, which are lengthy with discussions of war and strategy. After your private meetings, you have the war meetings with the other leaders of the twelve clans, which usually run late into the night. You still try to meet with Luna and your _kru_ at the tavern every evening, but your visits are not usually for as long as they had been in your first few days in Polis. You have hardly spent any time at all with your people in the last ten days and it is what made today so _great,_ despite the work. The commander had offered you the day off from war meetings to get this fence done and you had taken the opportunity without a second thought, eager to spend the day outside of the city with your friends.

" _I'm sorry,_ " you murmur sincerely, looking up to meet your closest friend's gaze as she pauses in her hammering. " _I know that I haven't been around much._ "

" _Don't apologize, Klark,"_ Reivon says firmly, dropping her hammer to reach out and touch your forearm, brushing her fingers comfortingly over your skin. " _I don't blame you; none of us do. We know that you're busy with planning this war and I'm_ glad _that you are such a big part of it. It is good to know that we have you in there, watching out for us in those meetings. We just miss you is all."_

" _I miss you too,_ " you reply with a small smile, before leaning forward to whisper conspriationly. " _If it makes you feel better, the war meetings mostly make me want to stab my own eyes out. They have gotten better recently, but I cannot count how many times I have had to resist the urge to punch Mika of the Plain Riders in the face. I do not know how the commander manages to be so patient with him and the others._ "

Reivon snorts loudly with laughter, an amused grin pulling at her lips as she pick her tools back up. " _How is she, anyway?"_ She asks, continuing when she notices your confused expression. " _The commander. You spend a lot of time with her, what's she like?_ "

Your brows furrow thoughtfully as you consider your answer. How does one explain the enigma that is the commander of the twelve clans? " _Honestly? She's smart. I mean, we already knew that before we came here, but she's really fucking smart, Reivon. Some of the ideas that she comes up with are things that I never would have thought of in a thousand lifetimes. She can find mistakes in every plan that we make but she also_ fixes _them until they are impenatrable. It's incredible."_

 _"Yeah?"_ Reivon asks interestedly, glancing between you and the wood beneath her skilled hands. " _What else?"_

You shrug your shoulders lightly. " _It's kind of hard to explain her; I don't really_ know _her."_

 _"But you spend every day with her,"_ Reivon replies with a hint of confusion, a crease forming between her brows as she places a nail against the wood before tapping it carefully into the post.

" _And we spend every moment taking about war,_ " you reply and it's the truth. You've never really had a _personal_ conversation with the commander and you don't really know anything about the woman who exists beneath all that armor, besides what others have told you. You know that she is _there,_ you have seen brief glimpses of her and you are not so naive as to think that the commander is all that exists; _heda_ is simply one of the many masks that _Leksa_ herself wears, same as _Wanheda_ is one of yours. You know she has other faces, each a part of her as much as the last, but you are yet to be introduced. All you know is _heda;_ you don't know _Leksa._ " _I mean, she's_ guarded, _like, all of the time. I can count on my hands the amount of times that I've seen her smile and it's near impossible to make her laugh. I've never met anyone like her. She's so controlled,_ all of the time; _even when it's just the two of us, she never really lets her guard down completely. It's... it's kind of sad, actually."_

Reivon is frowning, even as she is lifting up the newly constructed section of fencing, so that she can begin hammering the posts into the ground. " _Well, she has people though, right? I mean, she has Onya and she has Gustos, not to mention the flamekeeper, who follows her around like a lost puppy. Doesn't she have a lover, too?"_

 _"Kostia,"_ you correct automatically, your lips turning down at the corners at the mention of the woman's name. " _Onya told me that she's living in one of the houses on the edge of the city and that she hasn't shared a bed with the commander since a few moons before our arrival. Her and the commander don't agree on the war. Apparently, she also asked Luna if it would be okay for her to stay in the boat people's city during the war and Luna doesn't think she plans on coming back once it's over. The accomodations being prepared seem very permanent."_

Reivon is so surprised that she misses her next swing on the post, narrowing avoiding crushing her hand as she whips her head around to face you. " _What? You cannot be serious."_

You shrug your shoulders lightly, meeting your friend's gaze. " _That is what I've been told, though I cannot confirm the rumors myself. What I can confirm is that Kostia is a healer, not a warrior and that she believes this war to be a waste of human life. She does not think we can win and that is from the commander's own mouth."_

 _"But this war will_ save _more lives in the long run,_ " Reivon argues, hammer forgotten in her hand as she turns to face you completely. Her eyes are bright as she speaks and you take a second to admire her passion, something that you have always appreciated in your friend. " _Without this war, our people will never know true peace."_

 _"_ I _know that,"_ you assure your friend firmly, reaching out to grasp her hand briefly and squeeze. " _And the commander knows that too. I cannot speak for Kostia, but from what I've heard, I think that she is just scared of losing the commander. She doesn't think that we can win, and she doesn't want to stay just to watch her lover die. I can understand that. I think it's the_ wrong _choice, but I understand it."_

Reivon's expression is thoughful as she turns away to continue her work and you stand side by side in silence for several long minutes, the only sound being the thud of the hammer against the wooden post.

" _It's a stupid choice,_ " Reivon finally mutters, her eyes fixed firmly forwards as she speaks and you can only hum in agreement as you watch the wooden post embed deeper and deeper into the ground.

It _is_ a stupid choice. Even after all the horrible things he had done, you would have _never_ left Fin alone on the last day of his life. The pain he had caused and the crimes he had committed still haunted you, but there was nothing that would have pulled you from his side that day.

But you are not Kostia and her relationship with the commander is none of your business, so you push those thoughts from your mind and focus intently on the sound of your closest friend's voice as you work together side by side.

It is long after sun down and you have just returned to your quarters, your blue eyes focused intently upon the water that you have heating over the fire place. You had spent the entire day in the plains outside the city and your body aches after the hours spent doing manual labour, though you cannot not deny the pride that you felt when you had gazed upon the final product of your _kru's_ combined effort.

It is a different kind of pride than what you felt in your meetings with the commander, making battle plans. You were proud of the progress you had made with the commander and the other clan leaders, but this kind of satisfaction today had been _immediate._ There was no waiting to put these plans into place, no standing around as you talked about all the things you were _going to do,_ it was just _doing_. You had _built_ something today, and while it had only been a paddock fence, it had purpose and you were proud of it. It made the ache in your muscles and the splinters in your hands feel worth it.

You look up wearily from your seat by the fire when a knock sounds at your door and when you call out for your visitor to enter, you are unsurprised to see the commander's armored form enter the room.

" _Hei, heda,_ " you say, turning around to face the fire once more and slumping back down in your chair comfortably. The warmth from the flames feels good on your exposed skin, seeping into your exhausted muscles and you watch the shadows it flickers across the walls with absentminded interest.

"Hello, Klark," the commander murmurs in response, closing the door quietly behind her before crossing the room to stand by your side, back straight with her hands clasped in front of her. You glance up at her, nodding your head to the chair at your side and watch as the other woman sinks into it gracefully, posture still perfect.

"Did you finish the construction of the paddock fence?" The commander asks quietly, tilting her head to look at you, with deep orange light flickering over her tanned profile and glinting off her forest green eyes.

"Yes," you reply simply, running your fingers through your wind swept locks. "And tomorrow afternoon I am joining Onya on the outskirts of the city to begin building the wagons that will carry supplies to the plains."

You had passed the _trikru_ general on your way back to the tower and she had asked (demanded) for your _kru_ 's assistance in building the carts and wagons, to which you tiredly gave your consent. The older woman had been delievering orders back and forth between Polis and the _trikru_ for the last week, and despite the fact your _kru_ would have to work side by side with _trigedakru_ to complete the task (you could only imagine the fights you would have to break up over the next few days) you were looking forward to spending some time with Onya. Her prescence grounded you in the captial and you silently admitted that you had missed her while she had been away, though you would never admit it to the hardened warrior.

"Yes, she has informed me of this development," the commander murmurs, slowly beginning to relax in her seat as she speaks. You watch from the corner of your eye as the heat of the fire drains the ever present tension from her limbs, until she is sprawled in her chair in a similiar fashion to yourself. It is strange to see her like this, even after all the time that you've spent together, but there is a small part of you that is glad that she is comfortable enough in your prescence to let her guard down, if only for a few moments. "She is very fond of you."

You raise your eyebrows at this unexpected confession, though the words are not nearly as surprising as the person who is voicing them. You let an easy smile play on your lips as you nod your head slowly, aware that the commander is watching you from the corner of her eye.

"I am very fond of her, as well," you confess sincerely, thinking of the woman who had been an unintentional mentor of yours throughout your younger years. "She's taught me more than I believe she even knows, before the coalition _and_ after. I look forward to fighting by her side in the months to come; it will be a very welcome change from our past interactions on the battle field."

A tiny smile is pulling at the commander's lips and you raise an eyebrow in question when she tilts her head slightly to regard you with twinkling eyes. "What?"

"She used to talk to me about you," the commander admits, chuckling softly when your eyebrows fly upwards in surprise. "I was her _seken_ before I became the commander and every spring I would leave Polis for a few moons to return home to my _kru_. I was ten years old when I first met her and she began training me, up until my acension day when I was sixteen. It was only a year before then that she met you on the battle field for the first time and I still remember her expression when she returned to the village after you fought."

You are leaning forwards unconciously as the commander speaks, hooked on her every word as her green eyes glaze over in a memory. You had known that the commander was Onya's second; it had been one of the first things that Onya had ever told you, her voice full of pride as you drank mug after mug of mead in a tavern on the edge of _trikru_ territory. You had been hurting back then, wounds still fresh after Fin's death, but you couldn't help but be intrigued as Onya told you stories of the young girl she once trained, who became the commander of the twelve clans. It was a shock to know that the general had been telling that same girl about _you._

"' _Leksa,'_ " the commander says, mimicking Onya's deeper voice with a fond grin. "' _I fought against an azgeda_ demon _today. She was as cold and hard as ice, contrary to the sunlight in her hair and the fire of a thousand funeral pyres burning in her blue eyes. I watched her cut down nine men before her people called for a retreat and she couldn't have been any older than you. I can only hope that one day I can train_ you _to be as passionate on the battle field."_

You are aware of the fact that you are gaping, not for the first time in the commander's prescence, and you only snap your mouth shut with a sharp _click_ when the commander laughs, the soft sound pleasant to your ears.

"There is no way those words came from Onya's mouth," you finally say, only causing the commander to laugh harder, her green eyes twinkling with amusement. "Not in a thousand lifetimes did she say that about _me_. Not in a thousand lifetimes did she ever say something so _poetic_ about _anyone._ "

"I swear it," the commander insists resolutely, even as her eyes dance with a mirth that you never expected to see reflected in them. It is somewhat captivating. "Even then, she admired you, Klark. Every time she fought against you, I would recieve a letter with details on how you had improved. She absolutely _hated_ you for besting her when you fought, as young as you were, but there was some part of her that was so proud of you too, proud to have fought against you."

"Oh," you croak hoarsely, feeling your throat tighten with unexpected emotion as you slump back into your seat. "That is probably the _nicest_ thing anyone has ever said about me."

The commander glances at you with shining eyes, a small smile pulling at the corner of her lips as she gazes at you. "If you ask her, she will deny it to the end of her days, but it is the truth."

"Oh," you laugh now, though it is shaky at best. "I do not doubt _that_. It is an effort to have her admit that she does not hate me at all on the best of days."

"She keeps her heart guarded," the commander hums in agreement, turning back to look into the fire. "Is it is hard for her to admit that she cares. Despite that, it is worth the time spent to break down her walls; the woman underneath is one of the greatest companions that you could ever hope to have."

You gaze at the commander's profile, tracing the fire light flickering over her tanned features with your eyes and you can't help but wonder if it is still Onya that you are talking about.

"She's still a stubborn bitch, though," you offer with a small grin, watching as a matching smile pulls at the commander's lips in response.

"I cannot disagree with you there, Klark."

You wake up the next morning, sometime shortly after dawn, to an insistant knocking on your door. You do not bother to change, simply climb out of bed with muscles aching to open the door in only your sleep shirt. You take no notice of the guard's wide eyed expression as he gazes down at your bare legs, simply stare at him with sleep glazed eyes until he thrusts out his hand sharply, fingertips gripping a sealed enveloped.

"A messenger arrived at dawn," the guard says hurriedly, only explaining further when you continue to stare at him with a blank expression. "It is a letter from your _Kwin._ "

You slowly take the letter from his outstretched hand, still standing in the open doorway as you break open the seal with fumbling fingers. Your eyes scan over the letter, the reply from the message you sent to your mother immediately after the summit, and you feel your mouth drop open in surprise at what you find.

" _Skrish,_ " you whisper after reading the message twice more, letting your arm drop to your side with the parchment still gripped between your fingers as you stare wide eyed at the guard. "She actually _listened_ to me."

The man gazes back at you in confusion, nodding his head uncertainly as he glances between you and the letter in your hand. Your mother's reply is still processing in your sleep addled brain, but it is not long before the full force of it hits you like a horse drawn wagon.

You rush past the guard without a second thought, leaving the door to your quarters wide open as you slip hurriedly into the elevator, rattling off your destination to the still befuddled guard. He forces the door closed behind you and your skin is practically humming with excitement as the elevator ascends up the tower, the ride seeming to last forever before the metal box comes to a shuddering stop and the doors are pulled open once more.

The guards on the other side seem slightly surprised to see you, but you pay them no attention as you rush to the door that leads into the commander's quarters, rapping your knuckles impatiently against the wood. It takes several long agonising seconds before you hear a muffled reply and you are still teetering in between shock and excitement as you throw open the door, glancing around the room until your eyes fall on the dishelved figure sitting upright in bed, illuminated by the glow of several candles placed around the otherwise dark room.

The sight gives you pause, as you take in the commander's sleep ruffled hair, free of braids, along with the thin sleep shirt that covers her torso and hangs off one shoulder. Her face is clear of kohl and her eyes are wide with surprise as she takes in your sudden appearance, her eyebrows rising when her gaze falls to your bare legs. You feel your skin flush, suddenly thankful for the dim light as you tug at the edge of your sleep shirt, regretting your sudden impulse to visit the commander _before_ dressing.

The moment thankfully passes and you stop caring, ignoring your embaressment in favor of waving around the letter in your hand.

"They're coming," you say excitedly, earning an entirely confused look from the commander, but you hurry on anyway. "They're actually coming, _all of them._ "

"Who are, Klark?" The commander asks, her voice husky from sleep, sending a surprising shiver down your spine. Your eyes fall briefly to the commander's bare shoulder, exposing unblemished tanned skin, but you shake your head quickly and return your gaze to the commander's confused expression.

"My people!" You exclaim, watching as recognition finally seeps into the commander's dazed expression. "The entire army, they will be here within a fortnight. More than one thousand strong _azgeda_ warriors."

The commander exhales a heavy breath, slumping back against her pillows as she regards you with wide eyes. You know that she had been worried, same as you, that your mother would reject your call to arms, though she had not voiced her concerns to you out loud. You felt a weight lift from your shoulders at the news and you could only imagine that the commander felt the same.

"That is good news, Klark," the commander says finally, bringing her hands up to run her fingers through her unruly brown locks. Your eyes follow the movement unconciously, only returning your gaze to the commander's face when she speaks once more. "Hopefully your mother's willingness to involve your people in this war so wholeheartedly will inspire some of the other clan leaders to do the same."

"We can hope, right?" You return with a crooked grin before shrugging your shoulders, feeling suddenly embaressed at your almost childish enthusiasm. Not to mention your unexpected arrival in the commander's quarters, half dressed. The handmaidens were going to have a field day with this piece of gossip. "I apologize for the intrusion, I just wanted to let you know the news. I will leave you to your rest now, _heda._ "

"I appreciate it, Klark," the commander says, her lips twitching in amusement, which of course, only has you feeling even more _mortified_. "I will send someone for you before midday, so that we can discuss this further before you must leave to help Onya."

You nod your head, still feeling somewhat giddy as you spin around on your heel, striding to the door with light steps, feeling almost weightless. You don't look back as you open the door to the commander's quarters, but you can still feel the other woman's eyes on you as you slip out of the room.

You blame the way your heart pounds in your chest on the letter in your hands, not because of the woman on the other side of the door.

You are sitting in your quarters with Reivon, dicussing the impending arrival of your people, when the commander's messenger comes for you at midday. You are surprised when the young woman tells you that _heda_ has requested your immediate prescence in the throne room, but she offers you no further information when you question her as to why. You share a glance with Reivon, who raises her eyebrows in response, before shrugging your shoulders and gesturing for your friend to follow you from the room.

" _What do you think this is about?"_ Reivon asks you as you wait for the elevator to reach your level, crossing her arms over her chest. She is wearing the dark red half armor that you had brought for her this morning in the markets and you gaze at it appreciatively as the torchlight flickers off the leather enticingly.

 _"I have no idea,_ " you reply with a tiny furrow in your brow. " _I was meant to be meeting with her in her quarters as usual, but it seems our meeting place has been exchanged for another today, though I have no idea as to why."_

Reivon is quiet with contemplation for a few moments before she glances at you from the corner of her eye. " _Will she mind me coming with you?_ "

Before you can reply, you hear the elevator shudder to a stop outside your floor and you wait patiently as the guard pulls the doors open. You raise an eyebrow at the occupants already crowded inside, before returning your gaze to Reivon.

" _I do not think she will mind at all, actually._ " You say as you step into the elevator, giving Luna a brief smile from where she is leaning against the metal wall. You are forced to stand inbetween the leader of the _floudonkru_ and Indra _kom trikru,_ who gives you an angry look as your shoulder brushes against hers in the tight space. You roll your eyes, smiling at Reivon, who is practically pressed flush up against your chest in the packed elevator and you only grin wider at the other woman's flinch when the metal contraption begins to move.

" _We really need to do something about this fear of yours, my friend,_ " you say with a soft chuckle, patting Reivon's leather covered hip as she scowls darkly at you in response. " _It is quite impractical."_

" _Shut up, princess,_ " Reivon mutters, even as her fingers tighten on your wrist as the elevator shudders and groans.

You turn your head slightly to catch Luna watching the two of you with a hint of confusion and it takes you a moment to realise that she cannot understand you.

"She does not like the elevator," you murmur conspirationally to Luna, whose eyes widen slightly with recognition before a knowing smirk pulls at her full lips. You hear a soft grunt of disdain from your right and you snap your head around to glare immediately at the leader of the _trikru,_ ignoring the two burly warriors at her back. "Is there something you wanted to say, Indra?"

"Not to you," Indra practically hisses, her dark eyes narrowed dangerously as she regards you with distrust. "The commander may have fallen under your spell, and Luna here, but I have not, little girl. I will not ally myself with _Wanheda._ "

Your upper lift pulls back in a snarl, even as you feel Luna's hand wrap warningly around your arm, along with Reivon's fingers digging into your skin. "Too bad our people have been forced into peace by the commander's coalition. I would enjoy showing you just what this _little girl_ can do."

Indra's threatening growl rumbles in her chest in response, raising the fine hairs on the back of your neck, but there is no time for retalition when the elevator comes to a grinding halt. You throw the older woman one last angry look as the doors as forced open, giving Reivon a gentle shove into the corridor before you turn to follow her. Your muscles feel tense as you turn your back to the _trikru_ leader, even though you know that is she too honorable to attack your turned back. Your fingers twitch for a weapon nonetheless and you are scowling heavily as you stalk into the throne room with Reivon at your side, watching you worriedly from the corner of her eye.

You find that you are the last few clans leaders to arrive in the throne room, with the commander already waiting on her raised dais. She watches you as you enter the room but you do not return her gaze as you stride towards the far corner, putting as much distance between yourself and Indra as you can. You feel angry and irritable, annoyed that you let Indra get to you with so few words and not even Luna's prescence as she comes to stand at your side can calm you. You cross your arms over your chest, the muscles in your forearms twitching as you clench your hands into tight fists, staring down at the ground with narrowed eyes.

You only look up when you feel a pair of eyes burning into the top of your head, meeting the commander's gaze from across the room. Her expression is as guarded as always, but her green eyes are muddled with confusion and another emotion that you can only describe as concern as she stares back at you. She tilts her head slightly in question as she holds your gaze and you feel your tense muscles relax minututely for every moment that you stare into her eyes, until you feel a sembelence of calm return to you.

You force a smile onto your lips and give a tiny shake of your head and the commander looks away, seemingly satisfied as she turns to regard the other clan leaders.

"I have asked you all here this day to discuss a change in our schedule," the commander begins, sending a ripple of confusion and surprise throughout the small crowd. You feel a small frown furrow your brow, tilting your head slightly to catch Luna's eye, only to find her looking equally confused. "In previous meetings, we had decided that we would begin our march upon the Mountain on the day after the spring festival," Leska continues, earning nods of acceptance from the clan leaders. "But plans change."

You raise your eyebrows in surprise, feeling some of the tension return to your shoulders as you stare at the commander. On the other side of the room, you notice Kostia has resumed her place on the raised dais to the commander's left and her hazel eyes are sad as she gazes at her lover. She hasn't been present at any of the meetings since the summit and you wonder what this change of plans entails if it has caused her to return.

"Our plans have progressed much quicker than I expected, faster than I ever dared to hope," the commander says, clasping her hands behind her back. "And so I have decided, after dicussing it with my advisers, that we will not wait until the spring festival to move upon the Mountain-"

"But, _heda,_ " Hephan _kom ouskejonkru_ interrupts, his brown eyes wide. "My people have only just begun to march-"

"I am aware of this, Hephan," the commander cuts him off with a sharp raise of her hand. "I understand that _ouskejonkru_ and _boudalan_ have much distance to cover and I intend to make their journey easier. _Trigedakru_ have already begun setting up camp in the plains, under the watchful eye of my general, _Onya_ , and I will have your _kru_ and the people of _Boudalan_ and _Podakru_ end their march there. _Sangedakru_ and the _Ingranrona_ are due to arrive in the capital at any moment, along with the _delfikru_ and the people of _yuljeda._ I have sent out our fastest horses to the _floudonkru_ and the _trishana,_ redirecting their armies towards the plains, where we will march to meet them once the people of the _louwada kliron_ and _azgeda_ arrive in the capital."

There is silence in the room as the words are processed; some people look worried while other are thoughtful. You feel as if your skin is on _fire,_ muscles flexing in preparation for battle. You had not expected this, but you could not say that you were adverse to the idea.

Despite popular belief, you did not find joy in taking lives; you hated the metallic smell of blood, the scars that lined your back beneath your shirt. War is not what you desire, but you admit that you feel a shiver of excitement at the thought of bringing down the Mountain. The thought of avenging your father and countless others is more than a little bit enticing and the sooner, the better, in your humble opinion.

"And when will they arrive?" Luna asks from your side, though the question and her curious eyes are directed at you. The commander turns her head to gaze at you expectantly and you lick your dry lips before you reply.

"Less than a fortnight," you answer, turning your head slightly to meet Luna's gaze before returning your eyes to the commander, who nods her head shortly in response.

"Fourteen days," the commander confirms, returning her gaze to the rest of the room. "My advisers are sending messagers into the streets as we speak to inform the people of Polis of our impending depature. Fourteen days until we march upon the Mountain."

The commander's green eyes are alive as she meets the stunned gazes of each person in the room, tilting her head slightly with a mirthless smirk adorning her full lips.

"Prepare yourselves," is all she says, before she dismisses you all with a wave.

"So," Belomi says slowly, looking up from the mug in his hands to glance at the people around the table. Your entire _kru_ is there, along with Luna and her guards, plus a handful of others from different clans who had wandered over to join you when you arrived at the outdoor tavern. You had sent Reivon out to round up your people as soon as you left the throne room, while Luna had sent her guard, _Luka,_ to do the same, so that you could share the news together. "What now?"

"Nothing has changed," you reply, after sharing a quick glance with Luna and recieving a small nod in response. "We will do as we have been for the past two weeks, until our people arrive and it is time for us to leave. It is honestly better this way; if the commander had chosen to wait, we would have hunted out all the game in the surrounding area and left the city to starvation once we left. There is not enough space around Polis to hold the twelve armies of the coalition and without enough work to focus on, fights would have started soon enough."

"Also," Luna cuts in diplomatically, raising her mug. "If we had waited another month and a half, we surely would have desolated the capitals supply of wine and who would want to stick around after that?"

It is amusing how Luna's words effect the occupants of the table more than your own and you can only smile and shake your head as your kru nods thoughtfully, while the _floukru_ guards look simply aghast at the idea of no wine.

"My warriors are bringing an entire wagon full of our best wine to the plains, along with the rest of the supplies," Luna adds with a grin, giving you a small wink.

"You are bringing wine to the plains?" You ask, though you aren't truly surprised; you don't miss the thoughtful look that Monti and Jaspa share behind your back either and you know they are thinking about their casks of moonshine.

"Of course," Luna responds, looking almost afronted. "We are going to _war,_ Klark, we could _die._ We may as well make the most of it and I plan on spending every moment that I am not on the battle field as drunk as I can possibly be."

You roll your eyes, though you are smiling, since you cannot fault her for her reasoning. You glance up at the sky, taking note of the time with a sigh before you return your gaze to the table.

"Our plans haven't changed," you repeat as eyes once more focus upon you intently. "We will continue to do as _heda_ has commanded of us, until it is time for us to leave. Tomorrow, that may be helping the _sangedakru_ set up camp in the plains outside the capital and the next day we will train with the other warriors of the coaliton, but today, we are helping the _trikru_ build wagons on the outskirts of the city and we are _late_."

Your people let out a collective groan in response, muscles surely still aching after yesterday, but you ignore them as you stand up from your seat, glaring down at your _kru_ who are much too slow to follow you.

"Let's go," you snap, clapping your hands together sharply as you wait, while Luna watches on with amusement. "If any of you let me down today, or if I catch any of you picking fights, I will personally make sure that it is your sole job to clean out the camp latrines in the plains when we are fighting the _Mounon."_

Your people move much faster after that piece of information, shooting up from their seats and beginning their march to the cities gates. You turn to Luna, who is still watching your people walk away with their shoulders slumped in defeat, and you raise your eyebrow in response.

"You too, _Luna kom floukru,_ " you say, earning a rare look of surprise from the clan leader, who stares back at you with wide grey eyes.

"Excuse me?" She asks politely, even as she sinks down further in her seat beneath your stare. "You do not command me, Klark."

"No, but that can be _arranged,_ " you practically purr, smirking as Luna's eyes widen even further. "Now, get up. I have a bottle of mead that I confisticated from Monti and Jaspa yesterday, we can finish it while we work."

You turn away after giving a not so gentle kick to her chair leg, and you smile when you hear Luna's quiet sigh of defeat as she stands up to follow you.


	10. Chapter 10

"No, no, no, _no,_ " you sigh aggravatedly, running your fingers through your dishelved blonde locks as you take several hurried steps forward, in an attempt to intervene before it is too late. " _Em pleni! Stop!_ "

You reach out and wrap your fingers tightly around one young warrior's wrist, catching her arm midswing and growling angrily when you are forced to duck beneath a sword that arcs dangerously over your head, the edge of the blade skimming over your scalp. Your upper lip lifts in a furious snarl as you kick out, sweeping the other woman off her feet and causing her to hit the ground with a heavy thud. " _Stop._ "

The young woman that you knocked down scrambles to her feet, sword hanging limply by her side as she gazes up at you with a mixture of frustration and embaressment, her chest heaving with each ragged breath. You glance between her and her sparring partner, whose wrist is still clasped in your iron grip, with your blue eyes gone dangerously cold.

"What are you _doing_?" You can't help but hiss with disgust, finally releasing the young warrior's wrist as you step back to regard them both in disbelief. The two women gaze back at you meekly as embaressment flushes their cheeks, refusing to look at each other and that just makes you angrier, the slow building ball of rage in your chest pulsing furiously. The woman whose wrist you caught is smaller in stature, a warrior of the _delfikru,_ while the other is of the _yuljeda_ , both known to be fairly peaceful clans, though they hadn't been acting like it only moments ago. "Who _trained_ you?"

You are aware of the fact that you are being more harsh than neccessary as you watch twin blushes creep up their necks, but the past week and a half has been _trying,_ to say the least. You are _tired_ and overworked and you have spent the last few days training with what seems to be the most _inept_ warriors that coalition has to offer and it is beginning to get to you more than you wish to admit. The commander had asked for your assistance in training the more peaceful clans from the coalition, so that they would be ready for the war to come and you had begun to regret your desicion to help after the very first day. It is like training with children, only there are _hundreds_ of them, all packed into the same small space underneath your watchful eye.

(you spare a brief, grateful thought for your mother, because you imagine that this must be what it would be like to train a _seken,_ though infinitely less rewarding.)

"We do not slash and hack like _animals,_ " you snarl, glaring at the two women who look more and more uncomfortable with every second that passes, but you are beyond compassion now. A few warriors nearby have stopped to watch, eager to see _Wanheda_ tear these _branwadas_ apart, but you pay them no mind. "I have given you very simple excersises and no where in the instructions given did I say to battle against one another as if you are fighting to the _death._ Are you unaware of the fact that you are on the same side?"

"Apologies, _Wanheda,_ " the young warrior from the _delfikru_ murmurs contritely, while the other woman nods her head in meek agreement beneath your harsh glare. "I know it is no excuse, but emotions have been running high and I believe that we just...got caught up in the moment?"

You clench your jaw at the answer, wanting to snap back at these girls that stare up at you with wide, earnest eyes, but you cannot fault them. The field where the training has been taking place over the past few days is packed with warriors and patience has been running thin with so many people from different clans in the same small space. The same could be said for the entire city of Polis, in fact.

There are only three days left before you are due to begin your march from Polis to the plains outside of _tondisi_ and each clan that you have been expecting to arrive in the capital has, except for _azgeda._ The city has been practically _alive_ with activity since the commander sent out messagers with the information of the army's upcoming departure, almost two weeks ago. The news had barely begun to settle when the first groups of warriors for the commander's army began to arrive in the city, from the clans closest to the capitol. Warriors from the _delfikru_ arrived first, two hundred strong camped outside the gates of the city, followed barely a day later by one hundred and fifty of the men and women of the _yujleda_ clan, all seasoned warriors.

Less than a week later, the city watched with awe as the warriors from the _Louwada Kliron_ strode proudly through the streets, all four hundred of them. They were dressed in the dark furs and leathers of their people, cloaks made from the skins of fearsome beasts resting across their shoulders proudly, with black warpaint smeared across their angular features. The general of their army, _Kane_ , had dropped to his knees before his _heda_ outside the tower of Polis when they arrived and the commander had received them graciously.

Two days after the arrival of Kane and his people, both the _sangedakru_ and the _ingranrona_ arrived together, which had almost started a war in itself. Each clan had brought more than three hundred warriors each and almost double the amount of horses and you did not envy the commander when she had to inevitably order them to camp on seperate sides of the city, just to stop the fights that kept breaking out between the two hostile clans.

The entire city was in complete chaos, full to bursting with more people than the city was built to hold. You could barely walk through the streets without constantly brushing against another body and tempers had shortened drastically without even the comfort of personal _jokking_ space to keep everyone in good spirits.

So yes, you can understand the brief loss of control; but that doesn't mean that you have to like it.

"Okay," you finally say, releasing a heavy breath through your nose as you allow your shoulders to relax fractionally, regarding the two women with slightly softer eyes, though your expression remains cool. "I understand, believe me, I do, but the next time that I see you two _brawling_ in such a way, I will not be so tolerant, understood?"

The two women nods their heads seriously, a hint of fear expressed in their eyes as they walk away, turning around to face each other to begin sparring once more, though much more skillfully this time. You nod your head in approval as you watch them for another few moments, before you turn away to regard the rest of the field.

It _is_ chaotic, with more than five hundred warriors sparring together in designated sections of the cramped field and it is almost clostrophobic. Each day you have been training with large groups from select clans of the coalition, _sangedakru_ and _louwada kliron_ yesterday and _delfikru, yuljeda_ and the _ingranrona_ today. People from your own _kru_ wander between the warriors of the other clans, adjusting sword grips and offering guidance to the least skilled sword fighters and you catch a glimpse of Onya on the other end of the field, demonstrating with a spear in front of a large crowd of women who watch her with wide, awe filled eyes. The sight makes you smile and you give the other woman a small wave when she meets your gaze from across the training ground, recieving a small smirk and a nod in response.

"They admire you greatly," a soft, musical voice pulls you from your thoughts, the tone of voice seemingly sincere, though you detect a certain bitterness that sharpens the edges of each word. "Though, with a title such as yours, it is not difficult to discover as to why."

From someone else, this could be taken as a compliment of sorts, but you understand these particular words for what they are; a subtle jab at your less than appealing title of _Wanheda._ You let the statement roll off your shoulders as you have so many times before, though you cannot deny the way the numerous kill scars on your back burn in response, a constant reminder of what you have done to earn such a name.

"There is nothing admirable about death, nor in being the one to command it," you murmur gently in response, tilting your head to catch the gaze of your unexpected visitor. "Though, I suppose you know that, don't you, Kostia?"

The dark skinned woman lifts her chin in acknowledgement, even as her hazel eyes scruitinize you, curious and thoughtful. "It is hard to glorify war and death when you are the one that tends to the people that it leaves broken in it's wake, but you understand that. You are a healer too, arent you, Klark?"

You nod your head once, holding the other woman's stare as she searches your eyes, until she finally tears her gaze away with a soft laugh. There is no real humor to the sound and despite the small smile on Kostia's lips, it does not reach her eyes.

"You are the human form of a contradiction, Klark," Kostia says, gently shaking her head as she returns her gaze back to your face. "I have watched you since you first entered the city and you are engima to me. How can one person be such a fierce fighter, feared throughout the entire coalition and yet bear such a truly kind hearted soul? You take life so easily with the same hands that heal wounds, both mental and physical, so effectively. Explain it to me, how you can be this way, because I just cannot understand."

You take a moment to consider her words, and while you know that you do not need to explain yourself to this woman, you find yourself _wanting_ to. You don't know why, but you feel as if there is more to this conversation than you are aware of, more to what Kostia is saying than she is putting into words.

You think it has something to do with her eyes; her beautiful hazel eyes that plead with you for answer that seemingly only you can give.

"We are who we are, Kostia," you finally settle on saying, surprised by the sharp look that you recieve in return, though you ignore it in favor of continuing. "I am who my people need me to be, when they need it. Everything I do, I do for my people."

"Words that I have heard more times than I care to admit, recently," Kostia says, with a surprising amount of bitterness; and that is when you finally understand what this is _really_ about.

 _The commander, of course._

" _Heda_ does what she must," you say gently, though you know that it is not your place. "She does what is best for her people."

"Even at the sake of her own happiness," Kostia adds, the sparks of anger fading from her eyes to be replaced with a bone deep sadness that unexpectedly clutches at your heart.

"Yes, as is her duty as _heda,_ " you agree firmly, before you give a gentle sigh and conciously soften your voice. "I believe that if she had the ability to choose, she would put you above all else, but she is not afforded such liberty. She was born for this, Kostia."

 _Same as me_ , you think silently.

"Born to die," Kostia whispers, her musical voice shattering with despair as she attempts to blink away the tears that have welled up in the corners of her eyes. The words she says and the sight of her heartbroken expression are too much for you and you turn your gaze away, mulling the comment over in your head.

"Maybe," you finally mutter after several moments of heavy silence, before you give a gentle shake of your head. "Though, from what I have seen, the commander is nothing if not a survivor."

You stand there in silence for a short while, both your gazes fixed upon the training ground, where the warriors continue to train beneath the glare of the afternoon sun, oblivious to the conversation taking place on the edge of the field.

"Shouldn't life be about more than just surviving?" Kostia whispers, her voice so soft that you have to strain to hear each heart wrenching word as it slips from her trembling lips. "Don't we deserve better than that?"

The words strike an unexpectedly tender place in your chest, spoken with such desperate longing that leaves your heart aching in response. You blink back the tears that have suddenly gathered in the corners of your eyes, turning your head to offer the other woman a tremulous smile.

"Maybe we do," you finally say after a few moments of consideration, as Kostia stares back at you with wide, hopeful eyes. "And that is what we are fighting for, Kostia, what _heda_ is fighting for. For the day when our people are safe, when we no longer have to look over our shoulders in fear, when we finally have _peace._ "

Kostia studies you, her eyes wet as she takes in your earnest expression before she gently shakes her head, offering you a small smile in response. You continue to gaze upon her profile as she turns her head away, her eyes flickering over the warriors training in the field before they return to you, full of conflicting emotions.

"For what it is worth, I hope that you are right," she offers, before extending her forearm for you to grip, her slender fingers wrapping warmly around your skin in return. "I wish you luck, Klark _kom azgedakru._ May you find your peace, in this life and the next."

You nod your head once, squeezing her forearm with a smile. "May we meet again."

You watch her walk away until her lithe body disappears down the path that leads back to the city and it is only once she is gone that your smile finally faulters, having disappeared completely by the time you return your gaze to the field.

It is almost sun down when you call a halt to the day's training session, feeling a small flame of pride burn in your chest as the warriors that surround you trudge wearily from the field. It has been a long, _long_ day, but more progress had been made than you had dared hope for and that knowledge has you practically bouncing toward the trail that leads back into the city proper. Luna waits for you there, leaning against the rough bark of a tree as she watches you jog towards her with bright, dancing eyes.

"Hello, Klark," she greets you warmly when you come to a stop beside her, flashing you a grin which you return easily. "I see that progress has been born of your tireless labor."

She nods her head in the direction of two warriors that pass you, passionately discussing a move that you had demonstrated to them during the afternoon and you smile. You feel proud and happy and you find that you can barely wait to tell the commander of the progress you have made.

The thought doesn't give you pause as it might have a few weeks ago; you've made peace with this knowledge, this desire to find the commander and tell her of every new accomplishment made in relation to the upcoming war. You feel as if she is the only one in the entire city who understands your passion when it comes to bringing down the Mountain. Every positive step you take towards winning this war, whether it be coming up with new plans or training to make your people stronger, fills you with hope and you instinctively want to discuss it with the commander, to see that same hope reflected back at you in her eyes.

"Yes," you reply smugly, crossing your arms over your chest as you turn to watch the last few warriors blend into the trees, to return to their individual camps outside the city. "Things are progressing much better than I ever dared hope for, that is for sure."

Luna hums appreciatively, gently nudging her shoulder with yours before giving a soft sigh. "Come on, then, _prisa._ The war meeting will be starting soon and we best not keep the commander waiting, especially not today of all days."

You shoot a look at your friend, wary of her warning, even as you lift your fingers to your lips and give a shrill whistle. Onya glances up at the sound from where she is standing on the opposite side of the field, placing spare blunted practice swords into a bag. She gives you a small hand signal in response, followed shortly by another ruder sign, before returning to her work. You huff a short laugh and turn back to Luna, who is still watching Onya with a smirk, shaking her head amusedly.

"Why _'especially not today'?"_ You question her with a raise of your eyebrow, your forehead furrowing when Luna simply gives a short shrug in answer.

"Kostia left," she murmurs distractedly, her eyes still focused on Onya, who is now striding towards you both with her bag of weapons slung over her shoulder. Your jaw drops in shock at the information and you give the other woman a hard shove to gain her attention, causing her to face you with a confused expression. "What?"

"What do you mean, ' _Kostia left'_?" You ask her, heatedly. "I thought she wasn't meant to leave until after we had begun our march to the plains?"

"She changed her mind? I do not know," Luna replies at your questioning stare, shrugging her shoulders once more. "I saw her off at the city gates a few hours ago with _heda._ My guard Tovi is travelling with her until they reach the coast and then she will return to meet us in the plains. That is all I know, Klark."

"Good riddance," Onya snarls as she passes you both, striding down the trail that leads back to the city. "The girl always flees at the first sign of trouble; she had no place in Polis with the commander."

" _Hey._ " You snap with an unexpected amount of anger, roughly shoving Onya's back, only to recieve a small growl and a look thrown over the general's shoulder as you trail along behind her. "She _loves_ her. That has to count for something."

Onya simply rolls her eyes, snorting derisively, and her voice is low with barely repressed anger when she finally replies. "Maybe she does, but not enough to stay, it seems."

You have nothing to say to that, so you merely stay silent as you follow Onya back to the city, with Luna walking quietly at your side, glancing at you from the corner of her eye with a thoughtful expression.

The commander is indeed irritable, you notice, after only taking three steps into the war room.

She leans over the table, her palms pressed flat upon the map, with one finger tapping relentlessly against the rough fabric. She glances up when you enter, her eyes flickering between you and Luna, who walks in besides you, only to look away immediately with a twitch of her upper lip. You hover briefly in place, standing in your normal spot on the opposite side of the table at Luna's side, before you make a swift desicion.

You ignore the eyes that watch you as you walk slowly around the large table, most noticeably Indra, who glares at you distrustfully, and Luna who watches you with a small, knowing smile. You can see Onya out of the corner of your eye from where she leans against the wall, her almond coloured eyes following you as you pass her by, though her expression doesn't change as you squeeze into the small space between the commander and Hephan, who moves aside with a raised eyebrow to make room for you.

You say nothing, merely clasping your hands behind your back as you stare forward, waiting for the rest of the clan leaders to take their places around the table. The commander doesn't spare you a glance, continuing to stare hard at the map, but you can feel the increased warmth of her body as she unconciously leans closer to you.

It makes you want to smile, though you manage to keep your features controlled in your usual impassive expression with some effort.

The commander does not look up when the door finally closes behind Leida _kom podakru,_ the last to arrive. Her head tilts slightly, her green eyes still focused intently upon the map when she peels her plush pink lips apart to speak.

"To win this war, we must infiltrate the Mountain," she says slowly, one slender hand reaching out to brush over the yellow flowers that bloom in front of the _Mounon's_ door. "The question is, how?"

The room is filled with a thoughtful silence as everyone simultaneously ponders the question, their eyes focused intently upon the map as if staring hard enough will provide an answer. You do not follow their gaze, instead choosing to watch the other inhabitants of the room, as is your way. You watch their brows furrow and crease in thought, their eyes flick across the map in a futile search mission, and finally, one set of lips part to speak, half answer, half question.

"The tunnels?" Luna asks, her eyes flicking up to meet your gaze and you give her a small smile in answer. You have already discussed this question multiple times with the commander during your private meetings and while you were yet to come up with a concrete plan, you agreed that the tunnels used by the reapers is one of your more viable options.

"No one who has entered the tunnels has returned alive," Indra replies scornfully, earning her a harsh glare from your eyes that she responds to with a sneer. "Anyone who enters is killed by the reapers or the Mountain Men. It is a foolish idea."

"It is not foolish," you snap back, despite your self loathing at rising to Indra's baiting. You can see the commander's head tilt in your direction as she listens to you speak, offering to hear you out, though she does not lift her head to look at you. "Using the tunnels beneath the Mountain is a valid option. It is completely feasible that there is another door that leads inside and it is vital that we know where it is, if only because the Mountain Men could use it against us to escape or to attack us from another direction."

"Klark is right," the commander says, cutting off Indra who had opened her mouth to argue. You shoot the older woman a smug look, which disappears swiftly upon hearing _heda's_ next words. "Nevertheless, if there is another door that leads into the Mountain, surely it will be as impenetrable as the one we are faced with outside, which places us back at the beginning. How do we get inside the Mountain?"

The room falls back into silence and you are forced to bite your tongue until the metallic tang of blood fills your mouth at the sight of Indra's triumphant smirk. The commander shifts briefly at your side, the movement followed by an increased warmth as her shoulder ends up pressed against your biscep.

The unexpected touch should set off alarm bells in your brain, but it doesn't. Instead, you find your body slowly relaxing in response, the tension draining from your shoulders.

"Klark," Onya's voice suddenly breaks the silence, causing the entire room to divert their attention to the _trikru_ general, who has taken a step in your direction, though her eyes are focused intently upon the map. "How did you create that old world bomb you used to explode that abandoned hut with Reivon when you were young?"

Your brow furrows briefly with confusion at the unexpected question, before your eyes widen with sudden enlightenment. Your mouth gapes open as you return your gaze back to the small model of the Mountain's door, before a grin begins to tug at the corner of your lips. " _Nomonjokka._ "

The commander has turned finally to fix her gaze upon you, her green eyes brightening with something like hope as she catches your gaze. You feel the overwhelming desire to turn that hope into something tangible and you very suddenly need to find Reivon, like, yesterday.

You are scrambling away from the table barely a second later, practically tripping over your own feet in your haste to get out of the room. The last place you had seen Reivon had been at the tavern, where you had promised to meet her after your war meeting was finished, so you decide that is where you will look for her first. You fling open the door to the war room, so lost in your thoughts that you almost crash into the guard that is standing on the other side, staring back at you with wide eyes.

" _Klark kom azgedakru,_ " he says breathlessly, as if he had just run ten miles, which might not be far from the truth as you notice the beads of sweat that trickle down his brow. "I came to inform you; your people have been sighted less than a mile away from the city gates-"

You don't even let the man finish his sentence, merely push past him and take off at a run, sprinting through the throne room and down the corridor, where you can see the elevator doors open and ready for you.

"Take me to the ground," you snap at the guards as you fly past them, skidding into the elevator and almost slamming into the opposite wall in your haste. " _Now!"_

The guards have barely begun to force the doors closed when a half armored body bolts through the closing metal slabs behind you. You are both surprised and yet _not_ when the commander turns to face you in the small space, her green eyes practically crackling with a newfound energy as the doors finally close and the elevator jolts as it begins its decent.

"We shall pick up your Reivon on the way to the city gates," the commander says, once she has straightened her red sash over her chest which had been displaced in her rush to follow you into the elevator. "We should have spoken to her much sooner. I do not know how such information did not occur to us when we discussed this before."

You shrug your shoulders as your booted foot taps impatiently against the steel floor. "We have been busy, _heda._ With our thoughts focused on so many different plans, it is easy for others to slip through the cracks. It happens."

"It _cannot_ ," the commander almost growls in response, causing you to turn your head in surprise. "We cannot allow such things to _slip through the cracks,_ Klark. _I_ cannot allow it. Much has been sacrificed for this war, with more sacrifices to inevitably come and I will not allow it all to go to waste because I simply overlooked what could be a piece of knowledge that could win us this war."

You bite your lip at the other woman's angry expression, though you know that the anger is not directed at you but rather at the commander herself, and somehow, that makes it worse. You cannot imagine what it must be like to hold so much weight upon one's shoulders, to know that the very survival of your people is based on your every desicion. Your life and the lives of every one of your people rested almost solely in the hands of the woman at your side and with one wrong move, every single one of those lives could be lost.

You think it is too heavy a burden to bear for one person alone and yet, this woman bears the weight willingly, her shoulders never once slumping beneath it.

It is honestly awe inspiring and not for the first time, you are reminded of why you agreed so easily to fight alongside this woman. Every word and every action she has taken since you have arrived in Polis has only strengthed your belief in this war and in the commander herself, whom you now confidently believe will find a way to get you and your people through it, even if it causes the commander's own death.

It is not so shocking as it might have been weeks ago, to find that _that_ is not something that you want, not anymore.

"Despite what you and apparently, the entire known world, believe, you _are_ human, _heda,_ " you murmur, earning a sharp look from the commander, which would could have cut you if such a thing were possible, you are sure. You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to look up and meet the other woman's eyes as you continue. "Mistakes will be made, yours and mine, and people will die because of it; such a thing is inevitable, I know. _But,_ " you say sharply, when it looks as if the commander plans to intervene. "The war has not yet begun, Leksa, and placing blame upon your shoulders for something that has not yet happened is unneccessary. If and when such a thing happens, we will deal with it then, _together_."

The commander stares back at you for several long moments, her expression a blank mask, if not for the conflicting emotions battling for dominance in her green eyes. "Together?"

It is more a question than a statement, spoken in a tone that is more vulnerable than any you have ever heard from the commander. Your lips tip up in a small smile as you nod, reaching out briefly to wrap your fingers around the commander's wrist and squeeze.

"Together." You confirm, before you drop your hand back to your side, heaving out a soft sigh and turning to face the doors as the elevator rumbles to a slow stop. You bite your lip, so many thoughts of so many things that you want to say in this moment running through your head, but you settle on simply saying. "I'm not going anywhere, Leksa."

You meet her eyes briefly as the doors are slowly forced open by the guards outside, and you hope that your inner thoughts are conveyed through that one single glance.

 _I'm sorry about Costia. I'm sorry that she left. I'm sorry that you have to bear that weight. I would take it if I could. I will stand by your side. I'm not going anywhere._

The commander dips her head in a tiny nod and you know that she understands.

As soon as the elevator doors are opened wide enough, you are slipping through the crack, your thigh muscles tensing as you resist the urge to break into a run. You stifle the childish complusion and settle for a fast walk, the commander matching your hurried stride effortlessly, managing to look graceful whilst you look like a bumbling mess in your excitement. You trek through the twisting corridors of the tower until you reach the opening that leads you out into the cool night air, which brushes against your heated skin in a frigid welcome.

The setting sun has disappeared while you have been inside, leaving the sky a clear midnight blue, with the moon shining its pale light upon the city of Polis. The colourful laterns that are spread throughout the city have been lit in response, along with the torches that line the main street, lighting up the faces of the city's inhabitants that are still wandering around at this hour. You pass them by without a second glance as you stride down the dirt path, unaware of the way that they stare as you pass, awed by the sight of _heda_ and _wanheda_ walking side by side.

It is only moments before you are walking past the alleyway that leads down to the outside tavern that you frequent with Luna and your _kru._ The commander turns as if to follow the path, but you grab her arm without thought, earning a scowl as you force her to continue with you down the main street with one arm, while your lift your other hand to put your thumb and forefinger in your mouth.

You let out one loud, long shrill whistle, followed by two shorter ones and then you wait, ears cocked as you walk towards the city gates.

"Klark," the commander murmurs, but you wave her off with a small smile as you hear a ruckus begin in the distance, followed shortly by the sound of running feet. You let out another whistle as the footsteps come to a collective stop and half a second later, pounding feet are racing in your direction, and then Reivon is standing by your side, as if she had been there the whole time, while the rest of your _kru_ are walking in formation behind you.

You spare a small moment to meet the commander's gaze, offering her a supremely smug expression and smirking when the commander rolls her eyes in response.

" _Heda,_ " Reivon says, bowing her head at the commander, earning a small, proud grin from yourself at her unexpected deference. " _Prisa_. You called?"

"Our people are due to arrive at the city gates within moments," you offer without premamble, your grin widening when Reivon's expression brightens at the news. "Also, I need you to make a list of every item you used to make that old world bomb when we were young. And once we have aquired everything on that list, I need you to make one."

If possible, Reivon's expression brightens further at this order, her grin becoming almost feral when the commander adds- "Or two, if possible."

"The more the merrier," Reivon replies, practically bouncing at your side and you cannot help but smile at her enthusiasm. You pat her on the back as you walk, tearing your gaze away from your friend when you finally reach the city gates and come to a collective stop.

Only a few moments pass before your impatience begins to get the better of you, your foot tapping incessantly upon the ground as you stare into the darkness. The commander stands tall at your side, seemingly content to wait and you attempt briefly to match her actions, straightening your spine and clasping your hands behind your back whilst adopting an impassive expression.

Only a minute passes until your fingers are once more fiddling with your belt before they move on to tap against the hilt of your dagger. This lasts up until your wrist is encased in a surprisingly gentle grip and you turn your head to stare questioningly at the commander's profile, as she continues to gaze down at the dark, empty road.

"Patience is a virtue, Klark," she murmurs, so quiet that you can barely hear, though you still somehow many to catch the amusement that laces her tone. "They will be here soon, I am sure."

"Yes, well, I have always been more of an instant gratification kind of woman," you whisper back in response, watching as the commander's lips curl up in a tiny smile. You are so focused on the curve of her lips that you do not notice the sudden movement on the road, until the commander gently squeezes your wrist which is still held within her grasp.

You reluctantly tear your gaze away from the commander's profile, turning your attention back to the dark road where you observe as shadowed figures begin to fill the path. Their faces are indisinghisable from this distance, even with torch light flickering over their forms, but even from so far away, you catch glimpses of the white paint that is smeared over the features of each warrior, a sign of the Ice Nation.The sight makes your heart pound heavily in your chest, in sync with the sound of a thousand pairs of feet marching in your direction, and a smile splits your lips as your entire body practically vibrates with the urge to run and greet them.

As the hoard of warriors gets closer, you begin to make out further details; the grey and white wolf skin cloaks that they wear draped over their shoulders, the spears that each warrior holds proudly, sharp points directed up at the night sky, and finally, the faces of the people in the lead- one in particular standing out from all the rest.

Echo, of course, who you can see staring straight back at you, a grim smile on her face as she proudly leads your people toward the city. You hold eye contact with your old friend as she crosses the distance between you, until she stands only a few feet away and your people come to a syncronised stop, standing tall and proud before the commander, the line of warriors reaching back as far as your eyes can see. You catch Echo's gaze once more and you share a smirk, before the older woman turns her gaze to the commander and slowly lowers herself to one knee.

" _Heda._ " She says, her voice strong and loud in the silence and you watch with pride as the rest of the warriors behind her lower their heads and repeat the title with reverence.

" _Heda._ "

You turn your head subtly to catch a glimpse of the commander's expression and your smirk turns into a warm smile at her wide green eyes that gaze out at your people with something like _hope._

"Warriors of the Ice Nation," the commander says, her strong voice carrying easily in the cool night air. "Welcome to Polis."


	11. Chapter 11

"One more day," you whisper to yourself ferverently as you stride up the path that leads to the _azgeda_ camp, the great trees that bracket you creating long shadows in the late afternoon sunlight. Beams of light pierce through the canopy above your head, intermidertly basking your face in brief splashes of warmth before your profile is once more dappled with shadows. "One more day, one more day, one more day."

One more day until you will ride from the city of Polis and begin your march to the plains outside of _tondisi_ and you can barely wait. If you had thought that the city had been chaotic over the past few weeks, Polis since the arrival of the _azgedakru_ was nothing short of a catastrophy.

It is clear that _azgeda's_ arrival in the city was unwelcomed and it has caused great unrest within the other clans that are camped outside of Polis's gates, most of whom do not trust the Ice Nation, no matter their loyalty to _heda_ and the coalition. After more than fifty years of bloodshed caused by your people, worst at the hands of _Kwin_ Nia, whose torturous reign none would soon forget, you could not say that you blamed them. Your people were known for being harsh, to put their survival above all else and while your _kru_ 's strength earned them some respect, it was overshadowed by scorn and distrust. On any other occasion, you honestly could not have cared less about the suspicious stares that were now being directed towards you by what seemed to be every single inhabitant of Polis, but now it made for some unfortunate complications, ones that you could not abide by with the war against the Mountain so close at hand.

It had been different when it was just yourself and your guard, since your title brought fear and respect and your recent affiliation with the commander brought you a measure of trust within the other clans. But with a thousand hardened _azgeda_ warriors at your back, their appearences wilder and more savage than the other members of the coalition, that respect had turned into anger and the meager amount of trust you had gained had seemingly evaporated the moment your people marched through the city's gates. The fact that the commander was yet to visit your camp as she had with all the others only heightened the distrust that was being directed towards the Ice Nation warriors.

It also didn't help that your people seemed to be revelling in the anger and hatred being directed at them, having no qualms about throwing it back at the other clans by a hundredfold without concern for the consequences.

You could not blame your warriors, since you were guilty of similiar actions and you understood the frustration they felt at being looked down upon by the other clans in the coalition, but your people were making an already difficult situation worse and you could not afford such complications nor such childish behaviour that would no doubt be reflected back on yourself. The repercussions had already been felt, by yourself and your guard of thirty who had arrived with you in Polis a month ago. Where only days ago, you were met by welcoming arms within the city and dealt with a certain level of respect, now you were shown naught by wariness if you were not outright ignored. It was frustrating when you had sacrificed so much to gain the deference you had earned since you entered the city and you refused to let it all slip through your fingers due to the actions of others.

 _Klark_ could not blame her people for their actions and she sympathised with them, but _Wanheda_ did _not_ and it was _Wanheda_ who currently walked down the path leading back to her people's camp, with rightious indignation burning beneath her skin and the deaths of hundreds weighed upon her back.

You reach the end of the path, which widens into a rolling field upon which your people have made a temporary camp, spreading out for half a mile in each direction. The field is surrounded on all sides by towering trees, effectively cutting you off from the other clans who are camped nearby in much closer quarters, with a small stream hidden behind the tree line whose water you share with the _Louwada Kliron,_ somewhat close allies of the _azgedakru_. Bedrolls and piles of furs surround hundreds of small firepits, where some warriors sit and talk whilst others sharpen their weapons in preparation from the upcoming war, brows furrowed in concentration. A few horses are corralled a small distance away, huge shaggy beasts that were bred to pull the heavy wagons and carts that your clan has supplied for the war, filled to the brim with food and supplies. It is a simple camp, with only a single large tent that has been pitched in the centre of the field and it is in that direction in which you walk, acknowledging the respectful nods that are directed towards you with a wave of your hand as you wander amongst your people.

You catch a glimpse of Reivon, crouching down beside a small fire with Monti and Jaspa and you gesture her over when you meet her dark gaze from across the field.

" _Prisa,_ " she greets you cheerfully as she jogs towards you, her smile faultering only briefly when she takes in your serious expression. " _Is everything okay?_ "

" _I want my captains in my tent within the next five minutes,_ " you reply, your tone laced heavily with barely restrained anger and frustration. " _Let it be known that any who do not arrive in time will be banished from this clan and can join the trikru for all I care._ "

Reivon stares at you with wide eyes as you stride past her before hurriedly scrambling away to search for your other captains. You push past the fabric that hides the opening of your tent and step into the warmth of your shelter, immediately shrugging off your leopard skin cloak and folding the soft fabric over the back of your chair. You glance around the small space and it's spartan interior, no more than a roughly made wooden chair and a large table, with a pile of furs half hidden behind the brazier that sits in the center of the shadowed room. You walk towards the table, your eyes wandering sightlessly over the map that rests upon it as you lay your hands flat against the wooden surface while you wait, counting the seconds by in your head.

It is less than three minutes before your captains are stumbling through the entrance of the tent, practically bowling each other over in their haste to get inside. There are ten in total, one captain for every hundred in the _azgeda_ army, and you let your gaze wander over their faces as each one steps into the tent.

Reivon is first, her beautiful face etched into a deep frown as slips inside, your right hand and your most trusted companion, who leads your army's scouts. She is followed quickly by Echo, easily one of your most skilled fighters and more than capable in her position of leading your best riders. _Ragar_ steps inside next, standing easily at over six feet tall with broad shoulders and a muscular chest, dangerous with a sword and even deadlier with a spear.

 _Sven_ and _Asher_ enter together, _bros_ , identical if not for the scar that marks _Sven_ 's cheek and two of the most intelligent individuals within your _kru. Thalia_ strides into the tent after them, your best archer by far, and with her comes _Viktor,_ who once bodily carried you from a battle when your thigh had been pierced with a spear, courtesy of none other than Onya. _Dane,_ a tactical mastermind with cold grey eyes follows and then there is _Quint,_ quick to anger but undoubtably loyal, a man you know would offer his life for his clan without a moments hesitation if asked.

Last but not least to enter the tent is _Ontari,_ a _natblida_ hidden from the capital by Nia who nutured her ruthlessness from a young age but whose path was changed beneath your guidance and who has saved your life more times than you can count. She meets your grim look as she ducks into the tent, nodding her head in deference, face half hidden in shadows as she skulks towards the table to stand quietly by Echo.

These are your captains, your most trusted advisors, and they are also the people who have undoubtedly _fucked up,_ and they know it if their body language is anything to go by. They are wary and nervous as they situate themselves around the table but you are proud to find that they do not hesitate to meet your gaze, returning your cold glare evenly as you search each of their eyes, looking for weakness and finding none.

You have fought beside each and every one of these warriors, have guarded their backs in the midst of battle and they have guarded yours in return. They are your _bros_ in arms and in blood and you would give your life for each and every one of them, but right now, you want nothing more than to smash each of their heads against the wooden table until your anger and frustration leaks out of your veins.

You won't do that, but you will settle for the next best thing, which includes watching the blood drain from their faces as you unsheath the dagger from your hip, twisting the blade thoughtfully in your hands as you regard them with an impassive expression: a trick you picked up from none other than the commander herself, during your many war meetings with the other clan leaders.

" _Reivon,_ " you rasp with a distinct edge, your voice low and dangerous as you continue to glance around the table at your captains, your fingertip sliding lightly down the sharp edge of your blade. " _How many fights have I been forced to end since dawn?"_

" _Five, princess,_ " Reivon murmurs in answer from your right, her head held high as she glares around the table, bandaged fingers tapping against her thigh, a product of said fights.

" _Five,_ " you repeat, inwardly smiling with a feral appreciation when your captains begin to fidgit nervously at the barely repressed rage in your voice. You place the tip of your dagger against the table and twirl it slowly before laying the blade down flat, your eyes never leaving your captain _Ragar_ 's face as you speak, whose throat bobs with a heavy swallow in response. " _Five fights that I have had to intervene in since dawn, where Ice Nation has been involved and it is now barely midday._ "

A loud bang echoes throughout the tent as you slam your fists down upon the hard surface of the table, hard enough for the small figurines on the map laid upon it to topple over. The impact sends sharp vibrations up your arms, but the brief flash of pain is worth the widening of your captains eyes in response to the unexpected sound. Several of the room's inhabitants flinch at the action and you respond to their weakness with a harsh glare that has them cowering.

" _I ought to have each and every one of you whipped!"_ You snarl furiously, your eyes narrowing to slits as your people drop their heads in shame, but their responses only to serve to fuel your anger rather than weakening it. " _It is your sole duty to control your warriors and instead you have made us look weak in the eyes of the other clans and in front of the commander. It is no wonder that they look down at us when our warriors are brawling in the streets of the capital like children."_

You pause to take several deep breaths in an attempt to curb your ire and it is _difficult,_ but you manage. The rage continues to bubble beneath the surface, barely contained, threatening to boil over if not for the excessive amount of willpower you are exuding to keep control of yourself.

" _We ride to war against the Mountain in the morning,"_ you say, lowering your voice as you look down at the map spread out on the table, where the small model of the Mountain has toppled over, due to your earlier expression of anger. " _We cannot afford to get caught up in such petty arguments, lest we force the commander's hand to punish those involved and drag Ice Nation's name deeper into shit than it already is. I will not allow members of this clan to ruin Ice Nation's chances of finally recieving the respect we are due, especially not after all I have done to ensure our people's involvement in this war."_

You pause briefly, glancing at the faces of your captain's to make sure that you are being heard and you are satisfied by their intent expressions as they hang off your every word. 

" _Not a single member of this clan is to step foot outside of this camp without my permission until dawn tomorrow, when we march to the city gates. This will be your only warning."_ You growl the words threateningly, meeting the eyes of every single warrior in the room until they incline their heads in agreement. " _You are lucky that I do not give you to Indra of the Tree People as an apology for the wounds inflicted upon her warriors today. I have seen the punishment they give to those who have wronged them and death by a thousand cuts is not a end that I wish upon anyone._ "

You are gratified to see that your captains look properly terrified by your warning, though you do not miss the barely concealed sneers at the mention of the trikru leader's name, but that is another problem for another day. You wave a dismissive hand at the assembled warriors, your upper lift lifting in a ferocious snarl as you regard them with cold eyes. " _Get out._ "

The majority of your captains trudge from the tent defeatedly, though two of your companions remain in place; Reivon to your right while Echo stands tall from her place directly across from you. You heave out a heavy sigh once you are alone with your most trusted confidants, running your fingers through your blonde locks with no small amount of frustration.

" _If my mother were here..._ " you say, letting the words trail off as your companions nod knowingly, their faces contorted into matching grimaces. It is well known that your mother and queen detests being seen as weak, especially by the commander, and you can only imagine her reaction to your _kru's_ actions over the past few days.

" _We would be hanging from trees like decorations throughout the city,_ " Echo says unnessecarily, before she adds in a more reassuring tone. " _Hopefully the Mountain Men will have killed us all before she finds out._ "

You cannot help but snort in response to your friend's strange sense of optimism, sitting down gracelessly in your chair by the table. " _Here's to hoping._ "

You are aware of the way your companions exchange a look before Echo returns her attention to you and dips her head respectfully. " _I will leave now to make sure your orders are followed, princess. Not a single man or women will leave this camp until dawn, I swear it to you._ "

" _They better not,"_ you call to her retreating back, watching as she pushes past the tent fabric and disappears into the camp beyond, her voice fading away as she shouts orders to your warriors. You turn your focus to Reivon, who is unconciously flexing her fingers and you frown at the action with concern. " _How is your hand?_ "

Your friend glances down at her bandaged fingers, offering them to you when you hold out your hand to inspect the damaged digits. " _Just some bruising, the healer said it would be fine within a few days. I will be holding a weapon again in no time._ "

You frown deeply as you let go of her hand, your eyes narrowing as you meet Reivon's gaze. " _I should have done more than break that bitch's nose for this._ "

" _And have her running to the commander?_ " Revion asks you, raising an eyebrow. " _It would not be worth it. I prefer you alive, Klark._ "

" _Who says I would die?_ " You ask, your voice taking on a more playful tone as you relax back into your seat, feeling the days tension slowly drain from your body in the company of your closest companion. " _You don't think that I could take the commander?_ "

You cannot help but smile ruefully when Reivon laughs at you outright, offering your friend a rude hand gesture in response to her amusement.

" _I think that you could hold your own,_ " Reivon finally says once her chuckles have faded away, though her lips are still spread in a wide grin. " _At least for a few minutes._ "

" _I would fight her anyway,_ " you offer easily, your voice still teasing, though with an unmistakable undercurrent of truth to your words. You would fight the entire known world to keep Reivon from harm and you know that she would do the same for you. " _For you and you only._ "

Reivon's eyes have gone soft and warm as she regards you with amused affection and it makes your heart swell in your chest. " _You would, huh?_ "

You nod your head, all signs of teasing fading from your expression as you reach out to grasp your friend's injured hand, running your thumb gently over her bandaged fingers. " _I would pick you first every time, Reivon._ "

The silence that follows is thick but not restricting; it spreads itself over your shoulders like a warm blanket as Reivon meets your gaze with bright, wet eyes. Your friend finally forces a laugh to break the silence, though the sound is strangled with emotion as she squeezes your hand.

" _I know you would, Klark,_ " she replies, her warm palm pressed against yours. " _I know._ "

The moon peeks through the clouds, shining it's pale light down upon the field as a gentle breeze rustles the branches of the trees that surround the camp, the only sound to be heard save for the quiet breaths of a thousand sleeping warriors. You wander amongst the fur covered bodies that doze upon the ground, your leopard skin cloak practically glowing in the darkness and your golden hair turned silver beneath the beams of moonlight. Your blue eyes are alert despite the late hour and your body is restless as you pause in the middle of the camp, standing silent vigil over the _azgeda_ warriors that are strewn over the grass all around you.

You have found yourself unable to sleep up in your room in the commander's tower for the past few days, since your people arrived, but not even the furs in your tent call to you now. Your mind refuses to rest, no matter the weariness of your body and so here you are, pacing through your camp with silent feet, looking down at the faces of your people in peaceful sleep, wondering which ones you will lose in the weeks to come.

You know that death is inevitable, but bringing your people into this war was _your_ choice and already you can feel the weight of each of their lives being laid upon your shoulders. You know that each one of them would follow you to hell and back but it is does not make the burden any easier to bear, knowing that the choices you make in the future could end you up in a field not dissimilar to the one in which you currently stand, but without the soft music of a thousand breathing warriors to soothe your fears.

The thought has you pausing briefly in the sea of sleeping warriors, your heart hammering in your chest at the thought of their bodies being torn apart by bullets from the Mountain Men's guns; a thousand bloody corpses to add to the scars that have been burned into your back and into your soul.

Movement catches your attention from the corner of your eye, diverting you from your morbid thoughts, and you turn your head, eyes focused intently on the figure that slowly emerges from the trees around your camp. Your gaze wanders over the leather covered body as it strides silently towards you, moving between the fur covered forms that hinder its path with ease, until the shadowed form stops a few feet away. They incline their head towards the tent that has been erected on the other side of the camp and you nod your head in response, letting your gaze sweep over the field one last time before following after them in silence.

You duck beneath the tent fabric that has been pulled aside for you, stepping into the candlelit shelter and sighing with relief when the warmth from the brazier seeps into your chilled skin. Your companion wanders further into the small space, gravitating instantly towards the table on the other side of the room, where a map similiar to the one in the war room of the commander's tower is spread across the surface. A dozen tiny flags are placed over the rough canvas and you watch as your unexpected guest touches them absentmindedly, their eyes wandering over the detailed map with a quiet reverence.

"This is well made," your visitor murmurs gently, as gentle hands trace over the vivid colours upon the map. "Beautifully detailed."

"Thank you," you reply smoothly, feeling a blaze of pride burn in your chest at the praise as you take your place by the brazier to warm your frozen hands. "I spent many hours working upon it."

Green eyes glance up at you from across the room, twinkling in the soft candlelight as a small smile pulls at the corner of full pink lips. "You are one of many talents, Klark."

You let a small huff of laughter escape from your lips as you slip your leopard skin cloak from your shoulders, letting the heat from the fire brush against your exposed skin. "Do not sound so surprised, _heda;_ these hands can do more than take life, despite what some are inclined to believe."

"I do not doubt it, Klark."

A companionable silence fills the tent after the commander's words and you let it linger as you warm yourself by the fire. You watch as the other woman glances quietly around the tent, her green eyes taking in each and every small detail, before her gaze finally lands on you. Despite the late hour and the relaxed atmosphere of the tent, you can see the tension in the commander's form and you wait patiently for her to voice the thoughts that are causing her discomfort, but she does not.

"How do your warriors fare in Polis?" The commander asks you instead, turning her attention back to the map on the table, where she fiddles with a few of the handmade models. "Onya told me that there were some... _difficulties_ with the other clans."

You grit your teeth, vowing to repay Onya for this betrayal at a later date even as you shuffle your feet somewhat embaressedly. You had been hoping to keep that small piece of information from the commander's ears, but it seems as if your attempts to silence all involved were in vain. _Jokking Onya._ "It was nothing, _heda,_ just some bickering between clans."

The commander glances up to stare at you with disbelieving eyes and you bite your lip guiltily before huffing out a heavy sigh beneath her gaze. "A few of Indra's guards made some snide comments at the tavern and my warriors may or may not have taken offense to such childish behaviour. I broke it up before it became too serious. It was nothing, truly."

"Truly?" The commander asks you, a hint of sarcasm lacing her tone that has you squirming like a misbehaving _yougon._ "You broke Indra's nose."

A smirk pulls at your lips before you can smother it and the commander's eyes narrow disapprovingly as you fight to regain your composure. The other woman rolls her eyes at your inability to contain your triumphant expression, shaking her head as she returns her attention to the map. Her disappointment is palpable and it has your heart unexpectedly sinking in your chest, filled with guilt and shame, emotions you never thought that this woman could ever invoke in you.

"It will not happen again," you attempt to assure her, stepping closer to the table and resting your hip against the wooden surface before ducking your head in attempt to catch her gaze, though your efforts are not rewarded. She refuses to meet your eyes and that just makes you feel worse. "We ride out at dawn and I promise to keep my warriors in line until we reach the plains. No more brawls or broken noses, I have made the order clear to my people."

Your tone is light and almost teasing, but it does not goes unnoticed by you the way the commander's shoulders stiffen further at your words, her jaw clenching tightly. You study her profile, tanned skin clear of warpaint, smooth if not for the tightening around her eyes and lips that speak of an inner struggle. You do not think that such a reaction from her is due to the fighting between clans and you cannot help but find yourself wondering what is happening inside her head to cause such discomfort.

The confusion and pain flickering in her eyes is like a thread pulling at your heart, making you take a step forward and raise your hands as if to comfort. It is instict, it is the healer that lies beneath your armor who's trained to stitch together broken bodies and whose first instinct is to soothe away the hurt of both friends and enemies. Your heart does not discriminate when it sees a person in pain, simply moves into action without thought.

But this is not just any person; it is the commander of the twelve clans.

 _The woman who sentence Fin to die,_ a voice whispers in the back of your head, though it grows quieter and quieter with every day that passes. _The one who ended his life on the edge of her blade._

You push that thought away, deep down into the darkest part of your mind, where you will pulls it back out in the quiet of the night, along with all your other dark thoughts.

For once, you do not fight the instinctive urge to reach out and touch her, barely hesitating before gently placing your hand on the dark haired woman's shoulder in a meager offer of comfort. You feel a slight tremor run through the body beneath your hand, but the commander does not pull away so neither do you.

" _Heda?_ " you murmur, your voice soft and questioning and it is several long moments before the commander opens her mouth to speak, though her eyes do not stray from the map on the table.

"What if this is all for naught?" She finally asks you, unexpected hints of worry seeping into her normally confident tone. Her green eyes are dark and shadowed when she finally glances up at you, though her expression remains unnaturally calm. "The commanders before me warn me that my arrogance will bring the downfall of our people and that my dreams of peace are naught but dreams. What if they are right? What if this folly of mine leads all of our people to their deaths?"

You find yourself frozen at her words, your fingers tightening their grasp on the other woman's shoulder until your knuckles are white, though the commander doesn't seem to notice your vice like grip. Leksa's green eyes are wide and worried, filled with a deep seated fear of failing her people, a fear you know all too well, but one you never expected to hear voiced from this strong, confident woman that you have begun to admire from across war rooms and in between intense discussion of strategy. Hearing her speak these words that have been plauging you throughout the night has your blood running cold and you search your mind futilely for words of comfort or assurance, but you find yourself coming up empty handed as the commander continues to stare into your eyes, waiting for an answer.

" _Leksa,_ " you finally manage to whisper, unaware of the way the other woman's eyelashes flutter at your soft voice saying her name as you search for something to say. Your voice is urgent and almost desperate when you finally speak, willing yourself to believe the assurances falling from your lips almost as much as the commander. "This is _not_ all for nothing, I promise you that. The commander's before you may not believe in your dreams for peace, but they are not _you._ They did not create the coalition between the twelve clans, _you_ did and they could not have brought down the Mountain but you _will._ No other commander has ever accomplished what you have because they did not have the strength or vision to do so, but you _do."_ You pause here, allowing the words a moment to sink in before you continue somewhat breathlessly. _"_ And you are forgetting that you also have something that none of the other commanders ever had. _"_

As you are speaking, you can feel the tension slowly draining out of the commander's body until her shoulders are loose beneath your touch. "And what is that, Klark?"

"Me." You answer with a cheeky smirk, since the silence in the tent has become heavy, too heavy for your comfort and you cannot help but try and lighten the dark mood with some harmless teasing, causing the commander to roll her eyes even as a small smile pulls at her lips. You smile softly in return, giving the commander's shoulder a gentle shake. "Trust in _me_ if you cannot trust in yourself, _heda._ I am your loyal servant and I will not let you down."

You try not to let your own self doubt seep into your expression, since you do not feel entirely confident in your offer, though you swear you will try if only to help lift the commander's heavy burdens, even for a moment. Your shoulders are already a ruined expanse of scarred skin and it is better to break what is already crumbling; better you than her.

Leksa's green eyes are wide and bright as she looks up at you, her pink lips parting to speak, only to be interrupted by the soft sound of a bird singing, signalling the arrival of dawn. You hold the commander's eyes at the sound, watching as her face slowly transforms before your very eyes; her jaw tightening as the warmth slowly seeps from her gaze, signalling the arrival of _heda_ as Leksa once more fades away beneath the mask of the commander. You let your hand slip from her shoulder as the other woman straightens up, regarding you with an impassive expression.

"Dawn approaches, Klark," the commander murmurs as the faint sounds of the camp waking up around you begins to filter into the tent. You incline your head in acknowledgement, leaning down to pick up your leopard skin cloak and drape it over your shoulders.

"It's about time," you mutter quietly, letting your face slip back into the cool expression of _Wanheda_ as you follow the commander from the tent and into the crisp air of morning.

The sun has barely begun to rise over the horizon and already, the entire city of Polis is in complete disarray.

You are immensly grateful to be standing at the gates of the city, far away from the hustle and bustle that is the main street, as you wander down the lines of _azgeda_ warriors who wait patiently for instruction. You cannot explain how proud you are to be walking beside them, your eyes taking in their hardened features as they stand in marching formation, eyes following you intently as they wait for your next command. The Ice Nation camp had been dismantled under your watchful eye at dawn without any fuss or complications and your people had been the first to arrive at the gates, ready to march upon the commander's final order. The city's inhabitants steered clear of the waiting army, their eyes wide with awe and something akin to fear as they took in the thousand battle hardened warriors, dressed in dark leathers beneath their grey and white wolfskin cloaks. They are a fearsome sight to behold, with spears at the ready and their faces smeared with white war paint and the sight of them had your heart hammering in your chest.

You are also aware of the way that _you_ are being watched by the people of Polis and by the other warriors of the coalition. Dressed in your tight black leathers and your battle armor, with your blue eyes practically glowing beneath slashes of icy white war paint, you are _Wanheda_ in the flesh and it is somewhat thrilling, the way everyone avoids your gaze as they hurry past, for fear of being pierced by the cold blue stare of the commander of death.

All except for one person, of course.

"Klark!"

You tear your gaze away from your assembled warriors, allowing your cool expression to melt into a grin as you are faced with Luna _kom floukru._ Your eyes widen slightly at her appearence, letting your admiring gaze wander over her lithe physique made more noticeable by the dark blue leather that encases her figure. Her shoulders and upper body are well protected by burnished bronze shoulder guards and a intricately carved bronze chest plate, which sparkles in the early morning sunlight peeking through the trees and reflects off her twinkling grey eyes as she let her gaze rove appreciatively over your body in return. She let out a low whistle at the sight of the black leather that hugs your curves, reaching out with slender fingers to trace over the swirling designs on your silver shoulder plates with a smirk.

"You clean up well, my friend," Luna says approvingly, flashing you a sultry grin as she runs a finger along the leather straps that cross intricately over your chest. "The Mountain Men will surely fall to their knees before such beauty upon the battlefield, I have no doubt."

"I pale in comparison to your magnificence," you offer playfully in response, earning a gentle shove from the _floukru_ leader as she chuckles lightly. "If I lose my life to this war, I will die a happy woman if my last vision is one of you dressed in this armor."

"Klark, _beja,_ " Luna laughs loudly, attracting the attention of several passerbys, though she pays them no attention. She dusts imaginary specks of dirt off of her polished shoulder armor with a smug smirk, her eyes dancing merrily. "It is hot enough in this leather as it is."

You share a grin with your companion as you stand in comfortable silence, letting the sounds of the city filter away as you turn your gaze to the slowly rising sun. It is a surprisingly clear day, without a cloud in sight as the sky turns from grey to a bright blue before your very eyes, a good sign if there ever was one. You turn your focus back to the city, waiting patiently as more and more warriors begin to line up behind your people, readying themselves for the long march ahead.

You catch glimpses of the other clan leaders, attempting to organise their people while others direct traffic towards the gates and shout orders. It is almost midmorning and you are far behind on schedule and you can only imagine how the commander is faring in the midst of all this chaos, since you know that it had been her wish to have departed from the city shortly after dawn.

It does not take long for you to find out.

You watch from a distance as the crowd hurriedly parts to make way for their _heda,_ who looks like a goddess on earth walking amongst mere mortals, who bow and scrape their knees upon the ground as she passes. Closer now, you catch a glimpse of the commander's expression, her angular face a cold mask of anger as she strides down the main street towards you, with Gustos marching at her left side while Onya stalks confidently on her right. You instinctively straighten your spine when her gaze finds yours and you stand tall before your assembled warriors, watching as the commander surveys them with piercing eyes and a clenched jaw.

"At least someone chooses to obey their _heda's_ orders without prompting," the commander all but snarls once she finally reaches you, throwing a harsh glare over her shoulder at the haphazard groups of warriors that are still getting into place behind the disciplined lines of _azgeda._ You find your eyes fixed upon the movement of her jaw as she grinds her teeth before you feel a less than gentle elbow dig into your side, courtesy of Luna, and manage to look away.

" _Azgedakru_ wishes only to serve you, _heda,_ " you murmur demurely as the commander returns her gaze to your face. The other woman inclines her head in acknowledment to your deference and you offer Gustos a smug expression when she turns away once more to regard the chaotic main street, taking joy from the disgusted expression he gives you in response. Your smile only widens when you catch a glimpse of Luna subtly covering her mouth to hide her smile in your peripherals.

It is childish behaviour, but you find that you do not care with the adrenaline that is pumping through your body, setting your nerve endings alight in preparation for battle.

"Enough of this dawdling," the commander finally snaps, her gaze flickering dispassionately over the other warriors of the coalition. "I will wait no longer. The other clan leaders may meet us on the road, if they ever manage to get their people into order."

"As you will, _heda,_ " Gustos offers, gesturing sharply to a nearby groom who rushes forwards immediately, gently guiding a beautiful white mare with him. You eye the animal appreciatively as it is brought closer, watching as the commander reaches out to smooth a hand over the beast's neck as she takes the reigns offered to her. She pulls herself up into the saddle with ease, sitting gracefully upon the mare's back and you cannot help but gaze up in awe as the sunlight catches on the small metal cog that rests between her brows.

Sitting upon her horse's back, dressed in her full battle regalia with her black war paint smeared down from her intense green eyes, she truly strikes a regal and somewhat terrifying figure. The sunlight glints off her crimson sash, spilling over her chest like a river of blood and the frayed edges of her jacket sweep around her booted feet as she guides her mare towards the city gates. Her polished shoulder guard sparkles in the sunlight, along with the metal fastenings of her coat as she trots past you, pausing briefly a few feet away to glance over her shoulder, her gaze fixing on your immobile form.

"Klark?" She says your name with a questioning lilt as she studies your somewhat awestruck expression and you feel your mouth suddenly dry up in response, though you are unsure as to why. "Ride with me?"

"As you will, _heda,_ " you manage to rasp, waving over the _azgeda_ warrior who holds the reigns to your midnight black mount. You greet the horse with a warm smile before you place your foot in the stirrup and swing yourself up into the saddle.

"See you on the road," you say to Luna, who waves you off with a grin as your trot past her and towards the head of the army, where the commander waits for you. You let a smirk pull at the corner of your lips as your warriors bow their heads in reverence when you pass, reaching out to grasp Reivon's hand from where she stands at the head of your army before you pull up besides the commander's white mare.

Gone is the vulnerable woman who you had seen in your tent this morning, replaced with the confident commander that you have come to know, as her sparkling green eyes roam over the force assembled before you before she turns her head to meet your gaze. A tiny smile pulls at the corner of her full lips as her eyes flash with a primal excitement that you can feel building in your own chest as you match her grin with own of your own.

Your heart is pounding in your chest as Leksa waves her hand, signalling to one of your warriors, who raises a horn to his lips in response. He blows into the device which is emits a deep, loud sound that echoes through the city, ringing in your ears. The commander tears her gaze away from you to regard the army that is now focused directly on her, taking a deep breath before she opens her mouth to speak.

"Warriors of the coalition!" She calls into the sudden silence, the very earth seeming to hold it's breath as her voice echoes into the city. "Today we begin our journey on the path that will lead to the downfall of the greastest enemy our people have ever known! Today we march against the Mountain and tomorrow will bring the beginning of the end of our enemies! _Kom war!"_

The answering roar makes the ground tremble beneath your mount's hooves, as the warriors before you shout their approval, crashing their closed fists against their armored chest. You feel your face split in a feral grin, turning your head to gaze at the commander, whose eyes are still focused upon the cheering army, her chin lifted as her green eyes flash with pride.

You feel your heart pounding in your chest and you cannot deny that it's furious beating is not only for the adrenaline rushing through your body, but for the woman who sits at your side.

You do not have time to linger on this fact before the woman in question is nudging her mount into motion, turning away from the cheering army to begin the march and all you can do is follow her as she leads you past the city gates and down the road, your eyes focused intently upon her armored back as you leave Polis behind.


End file.
